


Change of Heart

by erinx



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Las Vegas, Light Angst, Light-Hearted, Los Angeles, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, serpent Jughead, southside serpents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 86,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23305639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinx/pseuds/erinx
Summary: Jughead Jones, leader of the Serpents gang of Los Angeles, is perfectly content with the walls he’s built up. That is, until a talkative blonde running for her life jumps into his car and yells, “DRIVE!”And then nothing is ever the same.
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, bughead
Comments: 281
Kudos: 372
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	1. “You can’t just hop into people’s cars!”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is very much appreciated!
> 
> Tumblr: @erinxwriter
> 
> -Erin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I never saw you coming  
> And I'll never be the same...
> 
> \- Taylor Swift, "State of Grace"

They were only a few feet away from her now. One second away from the main street, away from the crowd of busy LA citizens, and they’d catch her and take her before she could so much as blink.

She didn’t think they’d find her right away. She needed to act fast. She needed to act _now._

What could she do? What could she do?

She examined her surroundings – her options – and suddenly: a quick glance at the black Corolla, giving her the wild sudden rush of a good feeling in her gut, and Betty Cooper decided to just go for it.

So a few seconds before the traffic light turned green, Betty Cooper ran for it.

Two Hours Earlier

Jughead got up Tuesday morning and decided he did not want to talk to a crowd of noisy, eating Serpents at the communal hall. He made his way to Veronica’s quarters, where she was surely already awake and doing her work in the quiet, just the way he liked things.

“You got anything?” he asked Veronica as he entered the room, pulling a chair to sit down beside her and putting his legs up her table. Veronica was the Serpents’ resident hacker, and she was currently being tasked to get intel on what the Ghoulies gang – their rival gang – were up to.

She shot him an annoyed look and pushed his feet away before returning her eyes to the computer in front of her. “How many times do I have to tell you to respect my working space, Jones?” she grumbled, typing on her keyboard before talking again. “And no, not yet. Their database has gotten surprisingly secure.”

Veronica was, in many ways, his most unexpected friend. She, a former prominent New York socialite, had joined the gang only a couple years ago when she approached them to help her take down her evil tycoon of a father. It was barely successful, given that her father reemerged only a few months later; but still, she had found a family in them. And in her, they found a very valuable member.

“Wonder who they hired. Or who among them is the secret genius,” Jughead commented. He crossed his arms over his chest, furrowing his brows as he watched her try to gain root access to the Ghoulies’ computer system or whatever the term Veronica used was. “I will never get how you do that. It’s magic.”

“Just a bunch of trial and error. It isn’t simple, but I swear to you: it is not magic,” Veronica explained, pausing to push her hair back behind her ears. “Are Archie and Fangs back yet?” she asked, an edge in her voice when she mentioned Archie.

It was no secret among her close friends that Veronica was hopelessly in love with Jughead’s best friend for god knows how long. Archie remained oblivious, continuing to get into a long string of flings, while Veronica pined over him from afar, wishing he’d pay her non-platonic attention. Alas, he never did. And Veronica opening up about it to Jughead was the driving reason to them cementing a highly unexpected friendship, so in a way, it was a good thing.

“No. But you know them. They take so long to eat,” Jughead reassured her, though he knew Archie was probably with another girl. They had just finished a tiring delivery, after all. But Veronica did _not_ need to know that.

The door opened, revealing Toni and Cheryl, who had trays of food with them. “Figured you guys weren’t gonna commune with everyone over breakfast given that Veronica’s a nonstop workaholic and Jughead hates conversation,” Cheryl announced as she entered, placing a tray of food for them on the computer table and sitting down on the beanbag behind them. She moved the other beanbag closer to her for Toni to sit.

“Couldn’t be more accurate,” Veronica said, laughing lightly, eyes still on her screen.

“Thanks,” he said to them, empty stomach rumbling at the smell of the food.

Jughead examined the two plates they gave and figured the one with much more food was clearly meant for him: bacon, waffles, eggs, and a big mug of coffee. They knew him so well. He excitedly got his plate and began to dig in. Veronica didn’t even touch her food, only taking the glass of orange juice which she took a small sip from before continuing her work.

“You gonna eat your bacon?” Jughead asked, pretty sure that Veronica was only gonna have quarter of a waffle or less.

“Take everything,” she answered, waving him off. Jughead grinned and poured the contents of her plate into his.

“So… any progress?” Toni asked Veronica. Toni and Cheryl were Jughead’s most trusted confidants. They were smart and strategic, and made an unstoppable team when together. The three of them were most responsible for the operations the Serpents got into; and tied with Jughead’s leadership of what would just be a group of outcasts, they gave Serpents their best. Jughead would easily jump in front of a bullet for any of the three girls in the room. In many ways, they were the sister he lost long ago.

“Only a little. Whoever their expert is… major kudos. They’d make a great addition to my one-woman hacking gig here,” she replied. Jughead knew Veronica liked working alone, but he also knew that Veronica wanted another friend who wasn’t the moody and brooding type that he was. More or less, he knew Veronica needed someone to match up her excitement for things like shopping and dancing in clubs – things that made him want to run for the hills.

He got a text on his phone. From Sweet Pea. **We need you over here at the Blue Mahogany. Delilah only wants to talk to you.**

Goddamn Delilah Grande, always getting on his nerves. That girl was notoriously known for not being able to strike a deal with the Serpents unless Jughead was around to shove the deal in her face and reassure her that it wouldn’t backfire.

“I gotta go,” Jughead said, standing up. “The Grande deal is going south.”

“Swear to god, that girl is in love with you, Jones,” Toni said, laughing. It was entirely plausible. She made sure to drag on their meetings into unnecessarily lengths.

He rolled his eyes, putting his phone back in his pocket. “As if I’d ever date anyone who talked that much.”

As if Jughead Jones – a man of few words and only one commitment – would date anyone at all. Nonetheless, still absolutely true. The only people he could talk to for longer than ten minutes were his friends – and even they made him want to rip his head off sometimes. He enjoyed the silence and conversations where nobody said anything deep or personal. Other, more emotional forms of human communication were plain overwhelming to him. He certainly did _not_ need a girlfriend nagging on his perfectly balanced life.

So it was (seemingly) a regular day for Jughead Jones, the leader of the Serpents gang of Los Angeles. Things were going absolutely and perfectly normal. He thought he had every idea of what came next. But he didn’t – and no, he was not ready for what was coming.

Who _wasn’t_ having a regular day? Betty Cooper, who just got a threatening text from the anonymous person who hired her: **We will find you.**

She knew the gig was untrustworthy considering the crazy amount of money offered and given that it was now, certainly, going to _change her life forever._ How long did she have until they got her address? Until they got her? She figured they weren’t exactly geniuses given that they trusted her – a 20-year-old call center agent from Los Angeles – to build up their lax security system to cover up illegal doings. Still, it was a very serious threat from a very serious group of dangerous people, and she knew she couldn’t stay in her apartment long.

Still, Betty was not the least bit negative. She was terrified, for sure, but excited nonetheless. She pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail, getting ready to do what every cool person did in the movies – what she had wanted for so long. Adventure. Something outside what a normal day job could give her, outside what a normal life could give her. She always knew settling down and building her career wasn’t for her – what she wanted was the thrill of the chase. The thrill of not knowing what came next. And this… this was good, right?

She grabbed her biggest and best backpack from her closet and began packing her essential clothes: anything pastel, the skirts, and the comfiest jeans.

“This is it. This is the end of my current life,” she told herself as she rolled her shirts, trying to make the idea sound real to her. Betty did that quite often – talk to herself. She loved talking, whether it was with the people who listened to her orders or strangers on the bus ride home. Side effect of having no friends.

“I am _officially_ going to become a runaway…” she said, shaking her head. “Dear god, Betty. What did you just do? Is this what you really want? I mean… yes, right? It definitely is. I’d do this all over again, even if it meant ending up here…”

How much had she saved up from her side job? Quite enough to last her a few months on the run. She could go anywhere. Where first? Vegas? The Big Apple? Perhaps one of those small, strange towns that felt otherworldly. Maybe even Europe for a vacation. Anywhere that was unsure.

Maybe being threatened by some scary people wasn’t so bad.

She had no idea what came next, but she was ready.

“God, it’s like she _enjoys_ seeing me want to stab the mahogany tables,” he grumbled as he and Sweet Pea headed out the restaurant. He was pissed because it took a whole hour of negotiations to get Delilah motherfucking Grande to take the deal. His entire morning was ultimately ruined. Her entire presence – obnoxious and half-brained – was nauseating. He was ultimately relieved to be walking out of the Blue Mahogany, preparing himself for the LA traffic that lay ahead.

“I was actually afraid you would, Jones. I saw you reaching into your pocket several times,” Sweet Pea told him, chuckling.

“If she wasn’t one of our biggest associates, I’d have keyed that stupid car long ago,” Jughead replied, shaking his head at Delilah Grande’s pink convertible driving away into the distance.

“Well, I’ll see you back at quarters,” Pea told him, heading for his car.

Jughead gave him a nod and headed for his own car when his phone began to ring. “Hello?” Jughead said bitterly into the phone.

“Okay, asshole,” Veronica said upon hearing him. “Did you close the deal?”

“Yeah. It took a lot.”

“Cool. Anyway, I think I have something,” she said to him excitedly. “Get back here ASAP.”

“Alright.” He ended the call and got into his car, making the effort to slam it hard – just to release his anger somewhere.

LA traffic was the worst. The blistering sun hit the windshield, worsening his overall mood. As he remained stuck, waiting for the lights to turn green, he began flicking through radio stations and ending up turning it off when nothing he liked came on.

Meanwhile, Betty was on the run. It had all happened so fast, really. The moment she stepped out of her apartment complex, she saw a car she had never seen before parked outside. She didn’t even think much of it – she just ran, straight for the main street. She heard two men get out of the car and chase her, with one yelling “We’re gonna get you!”

Oddly enough, nobody seemed to care that there was a girl speeding through the streets, or that there were two men following her. But that was just very LA. Everyone in the crowd was caught up in their bubble of dreams. Thank god there was a crowd.

She had never run so fast in her life. Her feet were beginning to get tired and a side stitch crept up. Her head was throbbing and her bag felt too heavy. Her heart was pounding and she didn’t know if she could run much longer. She couldn’t help it – Betty stopped in her tracks, bending to clutch her kneecaps, panting. “Shit,” she muttered, turning around and seeing two large, tattooed men.

They were only a few feet away from her now. One second away from the main street, away from the crowd of busy LA citizens, and they’d catch her and take her before she could so much as blink.

She didn’t think they’d find her right away. She needed to act fast. She needed to act _now._

What could she do? What could she do?

She examined her surroundings – her options – and suddenly: a quick glance at the black Corolla, giving her the wild sudden rush of a good feeling in her gut, and Betty Cooper decided to just go for it.

So a few seconds before the traffic light turned green, Betty Cooper ran for it.

She had no time to wonder if the door was locked, or how the person inside would react. This seemed to be her only shot. She opened the door which was thankfully unlocked and hopped inside, met by the cool AC and the lack of a song being played on the radio.

She shut the door before she could even register who else was in the car with her.

The red light turned green. She shot her eyes at the wide-eyed, black-haired boy to her left and shouted “DRIVE!”

And so he drove.

Jughead lifted his foot off the brake, the car immediately not the way it was a minute ago. He shot his head to the right for a split second, seeing a blonde girl staring straight ahead, clutching a filled backpack to her chest as she breathed heavily. She seemed absolutely harmless, so he was almost sure this was not something sinister.

As he made a turn, unsure of what the hell was happening, he tried to make sense of what was going on. “What – who are you?!” he demanded, grip tightening on the wheel, facing forward, his pulse quickening. It wasn’t like him to be the opposite of composed, but sometimes an unwanted hitchhiker-situation did that to people.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she said abruptly, voice afraid but bubbly. “I didn’t mean to endanger you, I swear. It was an impulse decision to go into your car and you can just drop me off wherever-”

“You can’t just hop into people’s cars!” he interrupted, turning to look at her again. She was covering her face in her hands, embarrassed.

“I know! I shouldn’t’ve done this!” she continued, sounding thoroughly emotional all of a sudden.

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t’ve!” he said, matching her tone.

“I know. It was selfish, it was wrong. Do you know anywhere you can drop me off? Anywhere will do, really,” she continued. “I’m so stupid. And I was _excited_ for all of this. I thought it would be an adventure. Is running for my life an adventure? Maybe, but not a very fun one.” She was rambling now as if he wasn’t there or as if anything she was saying made any sense.

He took several breaths, calming himself down. He didn’t want to raise his voice, no matter how confused he was. “You’re running for your life?” he asked, tone softening, even as doubt began to rise in him. While this was a terribly inconvenient position for him to be in, he decided being an asshole wasn’t going to solve anyone’s problems. And if he was going to figure out who this girl was...

The girl stayed quiet for a while. “Look, again, I’m sorry. You’re probably on the way to work or whatever requires that really good 90s-looking outfit of yours,” she said, ignoring his question and instead sounding very calm, despite her heavy breathing. “Are you an actor?” she asked.

He scoffed, not replying. What a stupid question and comment. Of course he wasn’t an actor. And _90s-looking outfit?_ It was just a white shirt.

“Oh-kay, then. That corner will do,” she said, pointing forward in front of a café.

No, Jughead wasn’t going to drop this girl, no matter how talkative, back on the street. He continued driving. Her fluctuating tones was puzzling the hell out of him. Who was this girl?

“I said this corner will-okay, then,” she said when they missed the stop she had pointed at. “You can stop the car anytime now, really. I’m telling you, you might get involved. No joke, it’s bad.”

Jughead almost laughed. _He_ was no joke. “Who are you even running from?” he probed.

“It’s irrelevant to you. You’re a great driver, by the way. It’s so smooth. I feel like I could hold a cup of coffee and nothing would spill out,” she told him. Did she always make comments like that?

He ignored her reply. “Who’s chasing you?”

“I don’t even know,” she replied simply. “And you don’t want to know. Please, just drop me off. I might hop off this car. By the way, where’d you get the air freshener? It smells so good.”

“I’m asking the questions,” he said, annoyed at how cagey she was being. “What’s your name?”

The girl took a deep breath. “Whatever you want it to be,” she replied jokingly, a smile coming up her face.

Now he wasn’t so sure if she was as harmless as she looked. She dodged his questions quite easily, even if she spoke a lot. He glanced at her and surveyed her again, seeing there was much more than she was letting on. She was so oddly… calm. He didn’t know if he could trust her – she could very well be planning to kill him or something dangerous like that. What were the odds that she was totally innocent? He couldn’t be too sure. Either way, irrational thoughts rushed through his head and he figured he had to act fast.

He stopped the car when they reached a semi-empty street. “Thank you so so much,” she began, turning and getting ready to leave just as Jughead turned off the engine and pulled out his gun that he had hidden in his door.

“Let me ask again,” he said calmly as her face dropped when she turned and saw the weapon pointed at her. “Who are you?”

She swallowed. “Oh god.”

“Answer the question.” Maybe he was being a bit rash, deciding to use his gun so early on. His chest felt a little warm. _What was going on with him?_ Still, it felt like the right thing to do a few seconds ago. Since when did he not think properly?

Jughead could really see her well now. She wore a pink shirt with a cartoon of a cactus on it that read _DON’T BE A PRICK_. So she was into puns. He didn’t know what to do with that information. Her eyes were big and green and her hair was tied in a messed-up ponytail. She had a gentle, almost angelic face that, strangely, held up an unassuming intelligence. She was unlike anybody he had ever seen. She was unlike anybody he had ever met.

“I’m Betty Cooper,” she said, a smile creeping on her face.

Betty was unsure of how to feel about the seemingly innocuous, ill-tempered boy who was now holding a gun. She immediately thought of a barking puppy, because barking puppies tried to look scary but failed miserably and instead looked adorable. This boy was no different.

He was handsome and looked young, probably her age, with black hair and ocean eyes. He dressed as if he were an actor auditioning to play some bad-boy type, with his white t-shirt rolled up the sleeves and dark blue jeans. He probably _was_ an actor, given that they were in LA and there was something appealing about him. A kind of rugged charm that should be in the movies. She was willing to bet, too, that the gun was fake. But on the off-chance she was wrong, she wasn’t going to risk anything.

The situation was so funny and cartoonish; she couldn’t help cracking a smile as she told him her name.

He did _not_ like that she smiled. He furrowed his brows and narrowed his eyes at her. “Is something funny?” he asked, voice low. Was he _trying_ to sound intimidating? Because if so, it was not working. He probably needed an acting workshop, because he seemed a little nervous.

She tried to give her best poker face. He _was_ holding a gun. “Nothing, no,” she said. “I mean, well, it’s a bit ironic, isn’t it? I was running for my life, found you, and now you’re pointing a gun at me.”

He took in her words before lowering the gun, just as his phone began to ring. He still held the gun as he picked up his phone, answering it. “Veronica, not now,” he said, before ending the call abruptly.

 _Rude,_ she thought. “Is that your girlfriend? You should probably talk nicer to her. I’d be pissed,” Betty said to him.

“She’s not my girlfriend, and I _was_ talking nice,” he said dismissively. He had a low bar for niceness, she supposed. “Why are you on the run?” he asked, still calm as ever.

She noticed his words were clipped and calculated; he never rambled or made unnecessary quips and expressions. Betty wasn’t sure she should tell him anything, and yet she was about to. She took a deep breath. “Okay, fine. I was hired by some sketchy guys to… do something, and I didn’t finish the job because there was some freaky stuff going on and I didn’t want to be a part of anything like that. I cut them off and… well, there’s no intelligent way of explaining what I did next.”

The boy only stared, waiting for her to finish.

“I _may_ have led them to believe I would call the police on them. Which I would never do given that I don’t want to deal with any legal mumbo jumbo criminal interrogation lawsuit case whatever,” she continued.

“What did they have you do?” he asked, as if he understood what she was talking about.

She frowned. “Do you seriously want to know? We’re walking on illegal territory here. You do _not_ want to get implicated.”

He gave her a look that said _I don’t care._

“Okay, well, here goes. I’m a hacker. I mean, technically my real job is ‘call-center agent’, but I’m really a hacker,” she explained.

“Who hired you?” he asked, blue eyes not looking at her for too long at a time. Why he didn’t make direct eye contact with her, she wasn’t sure.

 _Oh no,_ she realized. “Oh my god, are you a cop?” she asked lowly, realizing he might as well be. Maybe he was an undercover cop.

He shook his head, almost disgusted by the question. “God, no. Who hired you?” he asked once more.

For some reason, she believed him, even if everything he was doing screamed cop. Just her luck. “Some organized crime group whatever, I don’t know the lingo for that stuff. They were called The Ghoulies, which is a horrible name. I would’ve picked something much better, and the next thing I know-”

“The Ghoulies? You were hired by The Ghoulies?” he asked firmly, looking straightforward as if he knew who they were.

“Um, yes,” she said. “Anyway, as I was saying, the next thing I know, they’re sending me death threats which I wasn’t exactly bummed about because my life is _so_ dull-”

“You _threatened_ The Ghoulies?” he asked again, shooting her a look before turning away.

Betty nodded slowly, uncertain why he was dwelling on The Ghoulies.

“Just your luck. You’re not going anywhere, Betty,” he told her, starting the car. He was so unreadable, it frustrated her.

“I’m lost.”

“I’m Jughead Jones,” he said, eyes straight ahead. “Leader of The Serpents.”

Betty froze, because it was then she found out that he was not a cop nor an actor. She immediately knew who The Serpents were.

They were all over The Ghoulies’ servers. Because they were their rivals.

“Where is he, Pea?” Veronica asked Sweet Pea when she saw him wolfed down waffles in the communal hall. She understood why Jughead hated eating here – it was so noisy and rowdy. Sweet Pea was supposed to be back with Jughead since they left the Blue Mahogany at the same time.

He swallowed his food. “Maybe he made a stopover, who knows,” he said, though he looked confused as well. Jughead wasn’t the type to make a stopover on the way back. He was the type to tell people _not_ to make stopovers on the way back.

“Or maybe he finally found a girl,” Archie’s voice said behind her, chuckling.

Veronica immediately stood up straighter, turning around. “You’re back,” she said almost breathlessly to him as he held up a tray of food and sat down on the tabled beside her. Archie had been gone for more than a day as he was on business with Fangs.

“Mhm,” he said to her, giving her a warm smile. Veronica felt her chest flutter. “The mystery of Jughead’s whereabouts. Where did he go?”

“He went out to close the Grande deal,” she explained, trying not to look at his eyes, else she might lose her train of thought like she always did around Archie. Instead, she just looked at his red hair. She straightened her skirt and pushed her hair back behind her ears.

“Oh?” Archie said, spreading butter on his waffles. “Delilah strikes again. Sit down,” he added, moving so she could sit beside him.

Veronica smiled, sitting down but making sure to keep her distance. She didn’t know what she’d do if their legs brushed or something like that. “She’s pushing too hard, if her goal is to end up in bed with him,” she told him.

“I actually think she’s doing well and Jughead’s just playing hard-to-get,” Archie replied jokingly, laughing at the ridiculous idea of Jughead liking Delilah Grande back, even if he obviously could not stand her.

“He so needs a girlfriend.” It was true. For as long as Veronica knew Jughead, he had never had a girlfriend. Only an ex that the Serpents would mention sometimes, though Jughead didn’t seem to care.

“Tell me about it. Last week, we ate out and this pretty girl approached him on the street. He told her he had a girlfriend just so she’d go away,” Archie said, shaking his head.

“And let me guess, you decided to hit on the girl, too, after?” she told him, feeling her heart drop as she said her own words. Archie was known as the ultimate ladies’ man among The Serpents, and everyone felt comfortable joking about it. So if Veronica wanted to mask her feelings, she had to play along.

Archie smiled. “You know me too well, Ronnie. Yes, I did. To no avail, though. She only had eyes for Jughead.” _Thank god,_ Veronica thought.

Just then, two people walked into a hall: Jughead, and beside him, a pretty blonde in light blue jeans and a pink cactus t-shirt. Veronica’s face lit up.

“Oh my god,” Archie said.

“Oh my god,” she said, “did we manifest a girl for Jughead?” She stood up and approached them. Everyone else was looking, too. Jughead was not the kind to come back with outsiders because outsiders weren’t allowed at Serpent headquarters. Let alone pretty, normal-looking people like the girl Jughead had to his left.

“Hey, Veronica, I apologize for my lateness,” Jughead said to her, looking at Betty and taking a deep breath nervously. Wait. _Nervously?_

Veronica grinned at the girl. “I don’t mind at all. Who’s this?”

“Hi,” the girl replied instantly, surprisingly upbeat. She seemed comfortable around Jughead, which was even weirder, because Jughead looked uneasy as hell. What kind of person made Jughead Jones look _uneasy?_ “I’m Betty Cooper.”

Betty Cooper was the kind of person to make Jughead Jones look uneasy, apparently.

How peculiar.


	2. “Just a gut feeling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early update because this quarantine has given me a lot of time to write. <3 thank you for the kind words, they mean a lot!

Betty looked at everyone – the Serpents – and scratched off everything she thought she knew about the world of organized crime. For starters, their location. They were in the basement of a bar located in a commercial district, unlike a crappy abandoned building she had been expecting. The basement, too, where people ate and talked, looked more like a school cafeteria than anything remotely dangerous.

Then there was the fact that all the Serpents were all young – some older teenagers and nobody over the age of 23, which she figured made sense because Jughead looked about 21 or 22 years old. Still, it was strange. Were the Serpents some kind of young-adult-only club where anyone with a wrinkle was immediately kicked out? Maybe so. She couldn’t imagine anyone from the Ghoulies being a teenager, let alone having a leader that looked anybody like Jughead. And while each Serpent looked tough to a certain degree, they’d pass off as ordinary LA people on the street if she saw them.

Then there was the girl in front of her. Veronica – that was what Jughead had called her. She looked nothing like the rest of them. She looked… well, rich. With her glossy hair and halter top, Betty would have thought she was a celebrity. She made a mental note not to make assumptions ever again.

“I’m Veronica,” she introduced herself. The name fit, given that it sounded so fancy. “How do you know Jughead?” she asked, eyes glowing with curiosity.

Betty smiled. She immediately liked her. “It’s kind of a funny story, actually. So I’m running for my life-”

“She works for the Ghoulies,” Jughead interrupted, sounding unpleased with the whole situation. But then again, in the minutes she’d known him, he seemed unpleased about everything. She hadn’t even seen him smile.

Everyone gave a collective gasp at his words, but surprisingly no one booed or attacked her. Everybody, she realized, fell silent at Jughead. And everybody respected him. So if he was being civil with her, then they’d be civil with her, too. They all looked at him expectantly.

“Woah, woah, wait – what?” a guy said, standing up. He was a few feet away with a plate of waffles on it and Betty immediately registered the red hair on his head. “How did you find her? And why doesn’t she look like a Ghoulie?” he asked, approaching them. She wondered what he meant by her not looking like a Ghoulie but then realized it probably had to do with her cactus pun shirt.

“Correction: _worked,”_ Betty said to the redhead. “It’s a very important distinction. And I barely even did a thing for them, so I think you’re giving me a little too much credit.” It was true. She only secured their systems and then refused to do anything more.

“Hold on, did you kidnap her?” Veronica said, glaring at Jughead. Betty could tell Archie and Veronica were close with Jughead because they were the only ones confident enough to match his voice.

“No!” she and Jughead said at the same time. Betty sighed before continuing, “As I was saying before Jughead interrupted me, I was running for my life when-”

“Have you had breakfast, Betty?” Jughead interrupted again, finally looking at her because there was also the fact that he barely ever looked at her for more than five seconds. Was there something on her face?

Betty looked at the stack of waffles that were on the redhead’s plate. “Yes, I did. But I’m still hungry.”

He nodded, not meeting her eye again. “We’re having a meeting; I’ll text Cheryl and Toni. Go get food with Archie and Veronica and bring it to the bar. You had something you wanted to discuss, right, Veronica?” he said, authoritative, and Veronica nodded. Betty heard someone mutter _inner circle meeting_ far away.

“Clear?” Jughead said.

“Crystal,” Veronica said, and Jughead went back upstairs wordlessly. “Let’s go get you some food, Betty. This is Archie, by the way,” she said, pointing at Archie, who trailed behind them.

Betty waved at the redhead, Archie, who seemed very happy to have Betty around. “Are you Jughead’s girlfriend?” he asked happily.

Veronica playfully hit Archie’s side. “My god, Archie. Going straight for the big question.”

“Sorry! It’s just, I can’t remember the last time Jughead brought back a girl,” he said. “This is news.”

Betty smiled. She liked Archie, too. He seemed genuine. So far, she felt very comfortable around the Serpents. They were surprisingly kind. She couldn’t remember the last time she met anybody half as interesting as them, either. “I’m not. I’ve only just met him,” she explained. “But, I mean, I don’t know if this a rude question, but is he always like that? He’s very… brooding,” she asked, figuring that _brooding_ was the perfect word for him.

“Oh, yeah. But he’s a big softie,” Veronica said earnestly as they reached a big buffet table. “Help yourself to anything. Chuck, our cook, makes the best food.”

“Smells _so_ good,” she said, pleasing herself with a plate of two waffles and that she began pouring a generous amount of maple syrup over. “Where do you guys sleep?”

“There are two floors above the bar for our rooms. We all have our own,” Archie replied.

“Mine isn’t really _mine_ , though, since that’s where all my friends hang out constantly,” Veronica said with a regretful sigh. “It’s more of a shared space now, so I never leave it locked. The only thing left to do is have everyone put a drawer of their things in it.”

Betty laughed. “Oh, so you don’t get privacy or anything like that?”

“Nope. I probably should’ve set boundaries early. Jughead did that when I first joined the Serpents two years ago, and that’s why no one’s allowed in his room,” Veronica explained.

“I peeked in it, once. It’s just a bunch of books,” Archie said, disappointed.

Betty nodded, feeling it was on-brand of Jughead to have an off-limits room. “I thought he was an actor gone method or an undercover cop. Because of his rolled-up sleeves and his gun.”

“Oh my god, he pulled a gulled on you?!” Veronica said in disbelief.

“How American,” Archie quipped, earning a big laugh from Veronica, who was looking at him steadily. Betty noted that Veronica probably was into Archie. She wasn’t sure if the feelings were reciprocated, though, since Archie only smiled.

She learned a few things about Jughead in that short period: he had few friends (who were great), he was esteemed by the Serpents, and that no one – not even his friends – was allowed in his room.

Jughead wasn’t sure how to feel about Betty. She made him on edge. She was unpredictable in the sense that she did not seem afraid of anything.

This was a girl who threatened The Ghoulies so much they were chasing her through LA. And from the way she spoke, he figured that she probably sugarcoated whatever went down between them. And maybe it was plain recklessness, but there was no denying it was brave of her to be so composed. If she was the hacker that Veronica had been praising, it meant that he couldn’t exactly trust her, even if she talked too much and didn’t seem like she could hurt a fly. It was too much of a coincidence for her to end up in his car.

Betty, by all accounts, was a wildcard.

After he texted Cheryl and Toni, he waited by the counter in the still-closed Serpents bar, wondering what meeting Betty meant not just to him, but to the Serpents. She probably knew a lot about the Ghoulies – enough to maybe take them down after everything they’d done. But only if he could trust her. _And_ if she was willing.

Veronica and Archie did not seem to know all of this just yet. Archie was already thinking, of course, of the possibility of Betty being a romantic interest in Jughead’s life, while Veronica certainly saw Betty was a potential best friend. With her _DON’T BE A PRICK_ cactus shirt, she definitely appeared harmless. Still, the uneasy feeling she gave him made him overly-cautious of his movements around her.

He heard loud laughter coming from downstairs. It was, of course, Betty, Veronica, and Archie, who had clearly hit it off. Archie was holding two plates of waffles – one his and the other Betty’s – while Betty and Veronica each held utensils and a glass of orange juice. At the same time, Cheryl and Toni came down from their room upstairs. This, he realized, was going to make an interesting meeting.

After everyone gathered at a table, Cheryl and Toni looked excited to have a new person in their midst.

“I’m Cheryl, by the way,” Cheryl began, “And this is my girlfriend, Toni.”

Betty regarded them both. “Hi, guys. I’m Betty.”

“Your shirt is cute,” Toni said. Betty smiled.

“Thanks! Is this the inner circle?” Betty asked. “I overheard someone say that this is the inner circle.”

“No, there is no inner circle,” Jughead said, though he himself knew that there was an inner circle and he just never wanted to acknowledge it.

“Yes, there is,” Toni said. “Me, Archie, V, and Cheryl. Everybody knows it, you just don’t acknowledge it.”

He shook his head. Toni was right. “Whatever. Betty, tell them about your situation.”

Betty then gladly recounted the story of how they met, and everyone else seemed to trust her right away. Betty was as charming and magnetic as Jughead feared. Veronica was thrilled to have a fellow hacker around, and the rest of them enjoyed Betty’s lively energy. After his long silence as Betty caught them up with her backstory (too much detail) and the rest made fun of Jughead pulling out a gun (not his proudest moment), he was ready to get down to business.

“What were you going to say earlier, Veronica?” Jughead asked, and immediately everyone’s laughter died down. He was referring, of course, to the phone call she made earlier. He hated sometimes that he was the leader because it meant that to a degree, his friends looked up to him so he had to be more serious than the rest of them. The responsibility was a lot.

“Right. It was that the Ghoulies, based on what I was able to crack, haven’t been doing much lately. Either they don’t have much to do, or… well, maybe they’re up to something bigger. It’s like they’ve been on stand-by. I can show you later,” Veronica said. “But their system is still strong, courtesy of Betty. I’ll have a go at it again tomorrow.”

He nodded. “I’ll check it out later. Betty, when did the Ghoulies hire you?” Jughead asked.

“Well… two weeks ago, I got an email from this account that had no name or anything,” Betty answered, still not at all fazed by the seriousness of it all. She took a bite out of her waffles.

Jughead nodded. “How did they find you? Do you use your name?”

“No, I don’t use my name to my clients… As for how they find me, I have a work email for this side hustle of mine. I’ve been doing some freelance computer work for a while, like setting up security – but sometimes I get asked to hack something. Nothing super illegal or anything like that,” she said, sipping from her orange juice. “I guess I got referred, who knows. They got ahold of my number and they just told me they know I’ve been doing this for a couple of years and they were willing to pay me a lot to do some work for them. I had to be very hush-hush about it, though, _or else._ ”

“Or else what?” Archie asked.

“He just said _or else._ Very ominous, if you ask me,” Betty replied.

“What did they have you do, specifically?” Jughead questioned.

“Do you _have_ to know?” she asked, suddenly uncomfortable as she rubbed her hands together.

“Yes.”

She looked at him and frowned. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“That’s not exactly up to you, is it?” Jughead said, annoyed. She wasn’t here to make decisions. She was here because she’d jumped into his car and she happened to be involved with the Ghoulies. “We’re doing you a favor here, being so welcoming. You don’t want this to become difficult.”

“ _Jughead,”_ Toni said warningly.

Betty didn’t mind his grievance. She only nodded. “Fair point, Jughead. I shouldn’t exactly make the calls, especially when these waffles are so good.” He didn’t know what to feel about her being so comfortable around him. “Okay, I’ll tell you all. Brace yourselves, this information is a bit sensitive.”

They all stared at her, wondering why she thought they’d find anything she was about to say ‘sensitive’ when they were literally part of an organized crime group.

“There was something to do with delivering… weapons,” she whispered as if there were other people in the empty, closed bar. When no one reacted, she went on. “Okay, well not just weapons. There was also something about assisting people in changing their identities and making a run out of the country – you know, things against the law. All that fraud-y stuff.”

Jughead wondered why someone involved in an organized crime group would say something like _‘all that fraud-y stuff’._ Again, she was unlike anyone he had ever met. “It’s all a bit sketchy, isn’t it?” Betty continued. “Anyway, I strengthened their computer system.”

“That’s an understatement. You made the system unbreakable,” Veronica complimented.

“Thank you,” Betty said, beaming. “But I don’t like dealing with dark web stuff, so all I did was put up security in their system, then I told them I wanted out. I got my payment beforehand, which I was totally willing to give back since I said I wanted out, but then they started calling me.”

“Who called, specifically?” Toni asked her.

“It was this guy using those machines to make your voice low and indiscernible. He said I did good work, and so they wanted me to help build them a new system for something new they were working on – he wouldn’t tell me what, though,” she explained. “He wanted me to agree to it first, which of course I didn’t. Some kind of new system.”

“What new system could that be?” Archie asked.

“A new gig, I suppose,” Veronica said.

“Then what happened?” Archie asked.

“I kept turning him down, but he was relentless,” Betty continued. “I blocked his number several times but he kept showing up with new numbers. Then I was so sick of it, I told him if he didn’t stop, I’d call the police and tell them everything. It was stupid of me – I probably should’ve just gotten a new number. It shut him up for two days, and then the threat came in yesterday. I left my apartment today. The rest is history.”

“Oh my god, do you have anywhere to stay?” Cheryl asked.

“Of course she doesn’t,” Toni said. “And if she did, it wouldn’t be secure.”

“They’ll keep looking for her,” Archie added.

“She’s staying with us,” Jughead announced. He wasn’t going to let Betty get herself killed. Plus, she could be a valuable addition to the team, especially since Veronica was their only hacker. Not to mention, he was starting to believe Betty, though she still made him feel uneasy. He still had some questions for her, though maybe he’d ask them another time after he’d given it more thought.

Betty looked up. “I am?”

“Archie will get you keys and fix your room up later,” Jughead said. “Unless you’d rather die on the street.”

She shook her head. “Oh, I’m definitely staying here. For the waffles alone.”

“For now, you’re working with us,” he continued, not responding to her waffles comment. “That’s not up for debate. We’ll give you protection, and you’ll do work for us. You’ll tell Veronica what you know about their system and we’ll try to figure out what they’re up to. We can start that tomorrow after you settle in. Once we deal with the Ghoulies, Betty will be unharmed and we’ll have cut down our biggest competition. Win-win.”

Cheryl smiled at Betty. “You can help us take the Ghoulies down once and for all.”

“But do you guys _also_ deal weapons and contribute to identity fraud?” Betty asked them, hesitant. After all, she had wanted nothing to do with the Ghoulies when she found out they were up to. She was still so cavalier about everything, though.

Jughead nodded. “Yes, we do,” he said simply.

“Also larceny,” Cheryl piped in. “But we don’t harm the middle class.” True.

“We’re a lot better at our jobs, too,” Veronica said. The Ghoulies were notoriously reckless.

“ _And_ we’re not petty thieves that terrorize small bodegas,” Toni said. “In fact, we offer them protection.” Also true.

“We’re the cleaner, better version,” Archie finished. Which, to say the least, didn’t mean that they were exactly _clean._ Still, Jughead liked to think they had more of a moral compass than the ruthless Ghoulies.

Betty nodded slowly, considering. “Okay… I’m in. Does this mean I’m officially a Serpent?” she said excitedly.

“Yes,” Veronica said, just as Jughead said, “No.”

“Come on. You want to be, don’t you, Betty?” Veronica told her.

“I’m sure she has a life outside all of this that she wants to move on to,” Jughead said.

“No, I don’t,” Betty replied, surprising him. He’d have thought that maybe she had plenty of friends. “There’s nothing for me.” She looked sad and wistful saying it.

“Well, we can’t just let people who jump into our cars join our gang,” Jughead explained. “You all had your initiations, and if she wants to join us, then she gets one, too.”

Betty clapped her hands. “Oh, I’m down for an initiation. What am I supposed to do? A keg stand?”

Archie laughed. “No, our initiations are simple: you just have to prove yourself. Once Jughead sees you’re loyal and capable, you’re in.”

She smiled at Jughead, a sparkle in her eyes. “I’ll prove myself, Jughead. Just you wait.” Her eyes were so determined and her expression was so enthusiastic, it was almost endearing.

Jughead gave her a small smile and then quickly looked away, wondering why he did that.

“What we talked about now is still confidential,” he told everyone, “so don’t tell the other Serpents until we have a set plan. Archie, show Betty to her room,” he finished.

Archie nodded, and he and Betty got up to leave.

“I never thought I’d live to see Jughead smile at a girl that way,” Veronica said once Betty and Archie were out of earshot.

“Oh shut up,” he said. He did _not_ need a girlfriend, least of all anybody like Betty. “I was being friendly. She’s going to be a valuable asset to us.”

“Valuable asset my ass,” Toni retorted.

“Jughead being friendly. That doesn’t sound right,” Cheryl added, and Jughead decided to head back to his room before the girls made everything bigger than it really was.

“So what made you join the Serpents?” Betty asked Archie on their way upstairs.

“Jughead and I go way back. Jughead’s a Serpent by blood,” Archie started. “In junior year of high school, my life pretty much fell apart… my parents died and I was failing my classes. Jughead was already dropped out by then – that’s a long story – and then I got expelled for some stupid reason, and Jughead immediately got me to join.”

“Wow,” Betty said as they reached another staircase above the bar. “Was he always the leader?”

Archie laughed. “God, no. He was _such_ a teenager back then. Full of angst but very hopeful about his future. He wanted out of the gang and to go to college. You see, his grandfather was the first leader, then his father, but Jughead wanted nothing to do with it,” he explained. “It’s a long story, but for a while, three years ago, we thought the Serpents would fall apart. A lot of things happened. It’s why almost everyone here is pretty young. But he took charge and put us back on our feet, and now we’re better than ever.”

She wondered what that long story was, but maybe she could learn it another time. “Does he still want to be the leader?” she asked him.

He thought about her question. “Hm… I don’t know, but he doesn’t trust anybody else to do his job,” Archie said. “Everybody respects him, too, so I don’t think he’s stepping down anytime soon. He cares for everybody here.”

She nodded. She could see that Jughead did care a lot about the Serpents. “How about you? Do you like being a Serpent?”

“I mean, I’ve wanted other things, obviously,” he replied, chuckling. “Like, I’ve always wanted to live in New York and become a musician. But life gets in the way.”

“You can still do that,” Betty said. “You’re what? 21? 22? There’s a lot of life left.”

He considered her words. “I guess so. But I’ve been here for four years now. I don’t know what it’s like to live any way else. I do want to settle down, though, one day.”

“Settle down? Like, have a family?” They arrived at a hallway that looked like apartment doors.

He smiled as his face got imaginative. “Mhm. I’ve been chasing love for years now, actually. I really, really want to fall in love.” He said it so pensively.

Betty thought it was adorable that someone in a gang wanted badly to settle down and fall in love. She thought immediately of Veronica and the way she had looked at Archie. Maybe he hadn’t considered her just yet. “Well, what’s stopping you?” she asked.

“I haven’t met a girl I’ve really _clicked_ with. But I still shoot my shot with a lot of the women I meet. You know, just in case,” he explained. “But our life’s not exactly… safe. It’s hard to do normal things like dates. I’m hopeful though. But Jughead… he’s the opposite. He likes being alone and thinks love should be the last thing on his mind. But I like having a goal, no matter how unreachable.”

“That’s a good goal, but I think Jughead makes a good point,” she said. She got him – she herself had love as the last thing on her mind. More than anything, she wanted to do something remarkable with her life – not find someone to settle down with. Her last serious boyfriend was back when she was still in high school, and her last date was over a year ago. None of which were worth remembering.

“Anyway, enough about me,” Archie said. “What were you again before the Ghoulies? A call center agent, right?”

“Yup. Very dull,” she replied. “I barely have any friends. I mean, I was actually kind of _relieved_ when I got that death threat. Imagine being relieved! It’s how sucky my life is. I thought it would allow me to move to San Francisco or fly to Europe or something. But as you said, life gets in the way.”

He laughed, agreeing. “Life has a habit of doing that. Have you always lived in LA?” he asked.

“No, I moved here after high school – a little over two years ago. I didn’t want to go to college.” It was true; she was always a bit of a rebel, despite the good grades she used to get. The dullness of Indiana, her old hometown, was the last straw.

“Why not?” Archie asked, and they reached a door that Archie opened. The room itself was just a little bigger than her bedroom. There was a big window with black curtains, a queen-sized bed, a study table, a cabinet, and a door that led to a bathroom. Plenty of space left to make the place her own. She already loved it.

“I’m a nonconformist,” she replied jokingly as she looked around the room. Betty didn’t like talking about her past much, so she was going to be as vague as possible.

“So… you can do anything you want with the space. Feel free to move stuff around or put up posters or even add furniture. And the walls are soundproof, so you don’t have to worry about blasting Spotify,” he explained. “Jughead’s room is the third door to the left, mine is still upstairs, Veronica’s is the first one you see when you get to this hallway, and Cheryl and Toni’s is right across yours.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

“If you need any help with anything, just tell me. Or go bother Jughead, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” Archie told her, handing her the keys. “Nice meeting you, Betty.”

“You, too.” He left her to unpack her things.

It was there that she realized she did not have many things.

That night, after she had dinner with Veronica (where they talked about their love of computers and shopping), unpacked her things, and gotten changed into pajamas, a knock came on her door. Betty stood up and opened it, revealing Jughead.

“Hi, Jughead,” she said to him.

“We need to talk. Let’s go for a walk,” he said quickly without a greeting whatsoever. He wasn’t wearing his white shirt that showed off his arms anymore (to her disappointment); he now wore a gray tee with a large letter _S_ on it.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Do we really have to go out?”

“People might hear us and I want to keep this as private as possible. Have you had dinner?”

“Yes, I have. Great spaghetti, by the way. But can’t we talk in my room?” Betty asked.

“I think better outside,” he said to her. “And I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea if we go into each other’s rooms.”

She nodded. “Okay, a walk it is.” She closed the door behind her. “Very conservative of you, though.”

“You’re not going to get changed?” he said, eyes scanning her outfit. She was wearing a purple shirt with a donut on it that read _DONUT BE RUDE_ on top of sweatpants and flip-flops.

“It’s a hot night and I really don’t mind,” she said, and they began walking down the hallway. She learned long ago not to care what people thought. “Why, do you have a problem with my shirt?”

He shook his head. “Is that all you wear, though? Joke shirts?”

“No, I only have one more left, unfortunately. But I do have better clothes,” she said with a laugh. “Maybe I’ll save the last pun weeks from now and keep the suspense going. If I stay here for weeks.”

He nodded without another word.

“What’s that song playing?” she asked, hearing music as they approached the end of the hallway.

“The bar,” he answered, serious as ever. Right. There was a bar downstairs.

“Oh my god. I totally forgot about that.”

When they were out in the street and out of the noise of the _Whyte Wyrm_ , he glanced at her and looked away immediately. Her hair was down now and he barely had time to get used to her other hairstyle, let alone this one. “How’s your room?” he asked, avoiding her gaze.

“I love this place. I’ve never talked to so many people in my life,” she told him as they began walking, her to his left. Jughead found that hard to believe – she was the most talkative person he had ever met. “Except I wished I’d packed more stuff. I thought I’d be leaving LA, and now I only have clothes. I probably should’ve taken my computer.”

“Tomorrow we can drive to your apartment and you can get the rest of your things,” he offered, sticking his hands in his pockets.

She smiled. “Really? You’d do that?” she said, “Do you think it would be safe?”

“I’ll be armed,” he explained.

Betty nodded. “That’s comforting. Thank you, that’s very thoughtful of you,” she said sincerely.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, not thinking much of it. “Anyway, something you said got me thinking: how did the Ghoulies find out about you again?” he asked.

“They said they knew I was doing computer work for a couple of years,” she told him as they walked through the busy street. As many people entered the other establishments, they remained outside, walking through the block.

“Yeah, that part confuses me. Who referred you to them?” he said. “Off the top of your head, how many clients have you had that asked you to do something even just _remotely_ illegal?”

She thought for a while. “Hmm … maybe eight or ten? More or less, ten, yeah,” she replied.

“I’m going to need a list of all you remember about them by tomorrow,” he told her. “I need to find who referred you because that could also lead us somewhere.”

“A list, got it.”

“Another thing, I find it odd that the Ghoulies found you so quickly. And none of them know you personally, right? You could’ve been male or in your mid-30s, and yet they found you in a day... If they only threatened you yesterday, I’d say with their skills it would have taken about a week or two to get to you,” he told her. “Unless, of course, they had been tracking you for a while. But still, why threaten you at all? Why not just kill you and be done with it?”

“You said ‘kill you and be done with it’ so casually,” Betty said, laughing, even though he didn’t find it funny at all. “I don’t know why people do what they do,” she answered when she saw his face was serious. “Maybe because they were sure they were gonna get me, so might as well get a laugh out of it.”

“It’s downright reckless of them, which is on-brand. But what isn’t is that they found you so easily, especially if you don’t use your real name,” he told her. “Why do such a good job at tracing you but such a shit job at actually killing you?”

She considered his words. “Hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“What weapon did they carry?”

“None,” she replied after a thought.

The Ghoulies weren’t acting like Ghoulies at all – they were known to show off their weapons. “They probably assumed you wouldn’t have gone away so quickly,” he said.

“That’s on them. Don’t underestimate Betty Cooper,” she said proudly.

He ignored her statement. “Maybe they weren’t trying to kill you or kidnap you,” he said after a silence. “Maybe they were there to only threaten you.”

“One of them did say, ‘we’re gonna get you’ _,”_ she began after a thought, “He didn’t necessarily say _kill._ And the text _did_ say ‘we’re gonna find you’. It doesn’t necessarily mean _kill,_ either _._ I guess I just assumed it meant they wanted me dead,” she said considerately. “Especially since I threatened them with the police. But why?”

“Because they’re idiots,” he said plainly. “But still, it makes no sense how they got a hold of your location.”

“Beats me.”

“You set up a great security system for them,” he informed her, thinking out loud. “Even Veronica had a hard time getting through. But I checked what Veronica was able to find, and the Ghoulies – as she stated – haven’t been doing much lately. Maybe it’s because they’re focusing on something else now, and it has something to do with why they were so adamant to get you to do their work. They’re practically desperate.”

“That’s bizarre. What could they be up to?”

“That’s for us to figure out in the next few days,” he said, deciding that they had to work hard and fast. “That’s all. We can go back now.”

They turned around and began heading back. “By the way,” she said conversationally, “I really like the food you guys serve. I take it that you take your food seriously?”

“Yeah,” he replied, not sure what kind of question that was. There she went again, speaking her mind without deliberation. But it was true. He did take his food seriously. It occurred to him that he almost didn’t have this talkative girl standing next to him, if not by chance.

“Is your cook a Serpent as well? Because if his initiation was just him making spaghetti, I totally get it,” Betty said.

“I have just one more question – why my car? When you were running, why did you pick my car?” he asked, eyes to the floor. It was more of a personal question than anything. He wasn’t sure why he was asking it, or why he thought of it in the first place.

She didn’t say anything for a while, and Jughead wondered if he had even asked it aloud. Or maybe _he_ was the one asking irrelevant questions now. But then she answered softly, “Just a gut feeling.”

_Just a gut feeling._

How strange that a mere 24 hours ago, Jughead wouldn’t have believed that his Tuesday would take such a turn. He had believed it was not a coincidence that Betty had ended up in his car – that maybe she was hiding something or had an ulterior motive. But as he thought about it, he realized it was just more of an accident than anything else. He couldn’t think of Betty as a liar now, especially after this, because if Delilah Grande hadn’t been so difficult, or if LA traffic hadn’t been so bad, or if Betty decided his car didn’t look so welcoming, they wouldn’t be here right now. She could very well have ended up in the car of an actual actor, or an actual cop, and he could’ve been in Veronica’s room, tracing the Ghoulies’ next move. And yet there they were, outside. How confusing the world was, how quickly everything could change.

As they walked back, he looked at Betty again. He mostly had a hard time looking at her – it made him feel uneasy in a way he couldn’t quite describe. Right now, though, as she was smiling to herself, in her purple shirt and flip flops, he didn’t look away immediately. He _couldn’t_ look away immediately. The humid LA wind was blowing in her face and her light hair was lit up by the beams peeking out from stores. Jughead felt something shift inside him – and with it, an instinctive responsibility to do better and to work harder for a reason he couldn’t place just yet.

Now, what he wanted was to figure out what the Ghoulies were up to and take them down – and to make sure that against those odds, Betty Cooper would be okay.


	3. “But you felt perfectly fine disturbing me?”

Betty Cooper was an early bird. She woke up before the sun rose without fail every single day.

Today was no different.

Jughead Jones, it seemed, was not an early bird. In fact, he wasn’t very nice in the morning (well, nice by his standards), but Betty did not know this. She knocked on his bedroom at 7 am, all dressed up in a pink blouse and a denim skirt, ready for breakfast and the day ahead. When he didn’t come out right away, she knocked again. “Jughead!” she called out. Several Serpents who were headed downstairs shot her weird looks, but none said anything.

It took a while before he came out. The door opened right before she was about to knock again, and she found a grumpy boy with a bedhead before her. “What?” Jughead said grumpily, rubbing his eye. “Did anything happen?”

“Good morning, you’re not yet awake?” she said, surprised. He did not seem like the type to sleep in.

“No, I was not. Why are you here?” he grumbled, stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door behind him. His hair was an absolute mess, with black waves shooting up in different directions. He was wearing the same gray shirt from last night, except he had flannel pajamas.

She smiled, thinking his sleepy, grumpy look was quite charming. “You said we’d go to my apartment today, remember?”

“What?” he said, irritated. His eyes were blinking slowly, remaining more closed than opened. “Yeah, of course I remember. What about it?”

“Well… why aren’t you ready?” she asked.

He sighed. “Is that what you woke me up for?”

“….Yes?” she said sheepishly.

“It’s 6 am.”

“7:02, actually,” Betty corrected.

“Same thing,” he muttered. “If it’s before eight...”

“Okay fine, I apologize. I thought you’d be awake,” she told him, though she didn’t sound at all offended by his crankiness. “But you’re awake now, so…. Let’s have breakfast.”

“Why are you rushing me? Go eat with the others.” He waved her off dismissively.

She looked at him steadily. “I feel like we should eat together.”

He sighed again. “Why is that?”

“Don’t know. I just feel like we should,” she replied, shrugging. The truth was, she simply wanted to spend more time with him.

He sighed one more time, making sure it was as heavy and dramatic as possible. “Give me fifteen minutes,” he said under his breath. “And never wake me up like this again.”

“Noted. I’ll be in my room.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He turned around and shut the door reluctantly.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, a knock came on Betty’s door. Jughead stood in front of her in a black t-shirt, his hair damp and his expression still grumpy. “Let’s go.”

There were many people in the communal hall. Breakfast was scrambled eggs and different kinds of bread and pastries, much to Betty’s delight. She was beaming like the sun. She got herself strawberry jam and orange marmalade while Jughead filled his plate with scones, his favorite breakfast. He wasn’t too sleepy to eat.

“Where are the others?” Betty asked him since he was so silent. “I wasn’t sure about knocking on their doors.”

He frowned. “But you felt perfectly fine disturbing me?”

She laughed. “I guess so… You didn’t answer my question.”

“Veronica’s working, Archie’s at the gym, and Cheryl and Toni will be here soon.”

“You know your friends well,” she remarked. “I hear you and Archie go way back.”

“Yeah, we do. Are you done?” he said to her.

“Yup.” She got a croissant and ate it while she followed him. “Where do we sit? And how is this croissant so good? America truly owes France a lot.”

The croissant came from the bakery a few blocks away. Jughead wordlessly began walking to the far back where there were no people.

“Straight to the corner, I see,” Betty observed as she sat down across from him.

“I don’t like talking to people so early in the morning.” It was true. The Serpents usually thought him eating downstairs meant it was okay to ask him questions about deliveries and patrolling, much to his annoyance.

“I’m the exception, then?” she said teasingly. When he said nothing, eating his scones mutely, she continued talking. “This jam looks marvelous. Anyway, if you don’t mind me asking, why is nobody allowed in your room?” she asked, spreading jam on her toast.

How much had his friends talked to Betty about him? “Because it’s my room,” he replied with no further explanation. “What will you be getting from your apartment?” he asked, sipping from his mug of coffee.

“My laptop, some books, more clothes… oh, and my rabbit,” she said.

He almost choked on his coffee. He began coughing. “Your rabbit?”

“Oh my god, not an actual rabbit! If I had one, I wouldn’t leave him to die. I’m not a monster,” Betty said, taking three big bites out of her toast. “It’s a four-foot-tall plush I won at a carnival a long time ago,” she continued after swallowing. “I took it with me when I moved to LA. You might say I’m attached to it. Wait till you hear his name. It’s a surprise, and you’ll be thrilled.”

He couldn’t imagine a giant plush sitting in the backseat of his car.

“My god, this jam is so good.” She had a forkful of scrambled eggs. “Perfection,” she said, nodding with her eyes closed. “These are the best scrambled eggs in my life.”

“Do you have to talk about every single thing you’re eating?” he muttered, stuffing the rest of the scone in his mouth and chewing without making no crumbs whatsoever.

She looked at him, amused. “Savor your food, Jughead. You eat like a soldier,” she told him, eyes softening almost condescendingly. “But there is no war – only the most perfect breakfast. You can be a bit messy, it’s okay. That’s when you know you’re enjoying it.”

Jughead sighed. “You woke me up at six-”

“Seven,” she corrected.

“- _seven_ to have breakfast. Then you insult the way I eat.”

Betty nodded. “Okay, point taken. Sorry. I _love_ the way you eat, then. It’s very… efficient,” she said, though she didn’t sound so sincere.

Jughead sighed again. He didn’t know how many times he had sighed today because of Betty. It was as if she never ran out of things to say.

Just then, Cheryl and Toni arrived downstairs, just as Jughead suspected, and took a seat beside them.

“You’re up so early,” Cheryl commented to Jughead, surprised. Jughead realized he was surprised he got up so early for Betty, too.

“Do you guys have merchandise?” Betty asked when they were in the car and on the way to her apartment. Did she ever stop talking?

He stared ahead. “Merchandise?”

“You know, a cool jacket,” she explained, looking at his plain black t-shirt. “Or at least a t-shirt?”

Did she really have to use the word _merchandise_ like they were a brand or a celebrity _?_ He nodded, eyes on the road. “We have a jacket. But it’s summer and we live in LA, so it’s severely underused.”

“Ooh. I’d like to see this jacket. And own one. If I join this gang, do I get to personalize mine?” she asked. “I want it pink.”

Of course she wanted it pink. When he didn’t say anything, she spoke again. “Do you have friends that aren’t Serpents?” she asked.

He was not a fan of the personal question. “No,” he replied, deciding not to add to it. His life for the past six years have revolved around the Serpents – he had no time to build on anything outside of that. And no, he wasn’t going to elaborate to Betty.

“Oh. Me too,” she told him. “I don’t think I have friends outside the Serpents.”

Jughead glanced at her. Was she serious? She had only met his friends yesterday. Did she really have nobody? Looking at her expression, though, she did look serious. “No work friends?” he couldn’t help questioning.

She shook her head. Something about her look had changed. “I work part-time, so I’ve never been able to bond with anyone at the call center. And LA – I’ve been here two years now – vibrant as it is, can be lonely if you don’t meet the right people.”

But she was so talkative. How had she _not_ met the right people? Surely there were people out there that matched her words per minute.

“Why did you move to LA?” he asked, not helping himself. She clearly wasn’t in college, even though she looked as though she ought to be, and she wasn’t pursuing any career in Hollywood.

“I just wanted to get away,” she explained, and he had never heard her talk so seriously. Gone was her usual liveliness, though she still spoke a lot. “I didn’t want to feel suffocated in my hometown. But I don’t know, I guess it didn’t live up to my expectations. I remember when I first walked through Hollywood Boulevard – it was so magical when I first got there. I mean, the Walk of Fame? I didn’t want to be a celebrity – but I was a head full of dreams.”

He understood what she meant. He was a head full of dreams once, too. But again, he was not going to elaborate on that. “What changed?”

“Everything. I realized too soon that Hollywood Boulevard is overpriced and kind of smelled. I don’t want to be an actor, but I joined a method acting troupe ‘for the experience’ and it sucked, by the way. I introduced myself to everyone who came my way, whether I was on the bus or in an Uber. I tried ‘putting myself out there’ – as they say – and yet I always wound up alone,” she told him.

Then, she smiled, shaking her head as if she was silly. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound so miserable. And I don’t mean to overshare something so senseless. I promise this is rare for me. You’ll probably never see me get like this again.”

“No, that’s normal,” he told her, unsure of what else to say, except that he didn’t want her to think she was being ridiculous. “I’m sorry LA is such a disappointment.”

She nodded slowly. “I think meeting you is the least disappointing thing that’s happened to me in LA,” she replied, and Jughead felt his head spin for a split-second. “I mean, meeting all the Serpents in general,” she corrected quickly. “Your friends are wonderful.”

He nodded, his chest suddenly hot. “Is this the street?”

She looked outside. “Yup. We can park here,” she said, pointing at the driveway of her apartment complex.

“Mine is on the ground floor,” she said as they parked where a few other cars were. “That one, with the pink curtains! You can’t see my bedroom, though because of them. Gosh, I’ve missed this place.” She was back to being her animated self, and he found himself grateful she wasn’t so down anymore.

When Betty unlocked the door, she felt self-conscious. Her apartment was too pink and probably screamed lonely. It was also much, much messier than she remembered. She supposed she had overestimated herself and got too caught up with packing. “I swear, I don’t remember it being this messy,” she said embarrassedly.

All her throw pillows (she was probably a throw pillow hoarder), were everywhere. They were on the carpet even if she remembered they were only on the couch. Then there was the fact that each of the pillows had a design stitched – a cartoon or a joke she had found funny.

Jughead was staring at the giant gray rabbit stuffed toy on the dining table, face unreadable. “That’s Jonesy,” Betty said. “Foreshadowing much, right? I can’t believe I named him Jonesy. He’s your relative, Jug,” she added with a laugh.

Jughead shot his head up to look at her. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, right? Call me psychic, go ahead-”

“No, did you just give me a nickname?” he interrupted, eyes wide. Was he horrified?

“Oh, sorry. If you’re uncomfortable I won’t-”

He looked away before she could catch his expression, as he began focusing his attention to a throw pillow on the floor with the embroidered words, _CORGI BUTTS DRIVE ME NUTS._ Seriously? Of all the pillows?

“No, whatever, do whatever,” he said, voice tight as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the pillow. She had no idea why the _corgi butts_ pillow interested him so much he had to look away.

“I’ll go in my room, I have a bunch of things in there,” she explained. “Can you bring Jonesy back in the car?”

“Okay,” he said, not meeting her eye as he carried Jonesy with one hand and walked out the door.

When she walked into her room, Betty jumped.

There was a man in her room about two feet away, pointing a gun at her. He was not the same as the two men from yesterday. He was shorter than them, probably in his 20s, with dark, curling hair and a heated face. And for some reason, he was in a business suit. He did _not_ look like the fighting type.

“Don’t scream,” he said, just as she was about to scream. “And don’t move.”

“Oh my god,” she whispered, raising her arms. So _he_ was why her house was messier than she had remembered. Her heart stopped. She was going to die. “How did you get in here?” she asked, realizing it was a stupid question to ask.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not answering that-”

Then, without much thought, Betty stepped forward and grabbed his pistol with both her hands, swinging his arms and trying to yank it from him. She aimed her the muzzle of the gun away from her, so if he shot it would go somewhere else.

“What the fuck- ” the man said, caught off guard. Betty was surprised she was putting up a good fight as her fingers clasped the gun tightly. “Get your hands off-”

When Betty let go of the gun, the force he used caused it to fall loose from his grip. The pistol flung across the room and onto her bed.

As Betty ran for the gun, he pulled her back. She fell to the floor. Her shoulder fell hard on the metal post of her bed as she landed on her side, scratching her arm.

“JUGHEAD!” she shouted, hoping her voice could be heard from wherever he was. She kicked the man with all her might so he fell to the floor, too. They were both on the floor beside her bed. Betty sat up, moving to get the gun when the man knocked her down again with a rough push.

She hit her head hard on the floor. Betty closed her eyes in pain but kicked his groin as he tried to get up. He groaned. He recovered quickly, though, as he knelt to the floor. She was no match for him. He was stronger, even though he wasn’t a very good attacker. Not to mention, she was in a skirt. The man grabbed the gun from the bed and pointed it right at her.

She heard the door fly open, and the man quickly stood, grabbing Betty by the shoulder and lifting her off the ground. He turned her around so she was facing Jughead, whose gun was pointed at him.

She realized the man was holding her hostage. He hid well behind her, his arm hooked around her neck so she couldn’t get away. “If you shoot, I’ll shoot her,” the man growled at Jughead, breathless.

Betty closed her eyes, her heart pounding.

“Let go of her,” she heard Jughead say.

She heard a gunshot, and for a second Betty thought Jughead had been shot. But behind her, she heard glass shatter. She turned around as she felt the man’s grip loosen, and she realized he had shot her window.

The man, quick as lightning, jumped out the window and into the parking space. She cursed the fact that her apartment was on the ground floor because it was so easy to get away.

Jughead ran towards the window, aiming his gun at the man, but he was already too far and getting into his car, which was a black BMW. “Fuck,” he muttered, but instead of jumping out as she’d expected, Jughead’s attention turned to Betty. “Stay away from the broken glass. Are you hurt?” he asked her, breathing heavily. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice surprisingly gentle.

“Sorry? Why are you sorry? He’s getting away!” she exclaimed. Why wasn’t he chasing him?

“I know,” he said under his breath. “Are you hurt? Did he do anything to – What happened to your arm?” he asked, taking her hand and looking at the cut below her shoulder.

“It’s nothing,” she said, loosening his grip. When she looked outside again, the car was gone. “He escaped.”

“Betty, your arm is bleeding-”

“It’s really not. Oh my god, my computer is on,” she said, seeing her laptop on her work desk in the corner. The lockscreen lit up the corner of her room. “He doesn’t know my password, obviously. What an idiot.”

He furrowed his brows. “What the hell? What does he want from your computer?” he said. He then shook his head, focusing on her again. “Let’s clean up your cut first then we can figure out-”

“It’s just a cut,” she told him dismissively. “We have to follow his car.”

“Betty, I’m not making another bad decision with you around,” he told her firmly, though she wasn’t having it. He walked out of her room.

She frowned, trailing behind him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You said you didn’t remember this place being so messy, didn’t you? I should have checked all the rooms here,” he explained. “Because now you’re hurt. I’m not going to go on a car chase and shoot a gun with you around. Where’s your first-aid kit?”

Betty stood behind him. “It’s not your fault.”

He found her first-aid kit atop her fridge. “Here it is,” he said, opening it and ignoring her words. “Wash your arm.”

She ignored that. “I mean, it okay? It’s not your fault,” she said again.

He finally regarded her. “You’re hurt,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “You should wash your arm.”

She couldn’t believe he was taking all of this too seriously. There was a man with a gun, sure – but she was barely even hurt. The man was just as unprepared as they were. And Jughead was armed, anyway. They were careful. So why was he so guilty? And why was he being too careful?

Betty rolled her eyes. “Who cares about my arm? Why do you keep talking about my arm? This wasn’t your fault, okay? I don’t know why you look so guilty,” she said to him. “Neither of us could have known he was in here. And it’s a silly scratch, that’s all. ”

He shot his eyes to the floor as he spoke, voice low. “I was about to leave and bring that rabbit into the car. If I was outside and he did something to you…” He closed his eyes, flinching as if he couldn’t even fathom the idea of it. “How is this not my fault?”

“But that didn’t happen. You came just in time,” she told him. “You came just in time, okay?” she repeated because he still didn’t seem to get her point.

“I told you yesterday we’d protect you,” he said. “It’s been less than 24 hours and a man with a gun attacks you. If I wasn’t so stupid, I’d have searched your apartment, or at least not have been about to leave with the rabbit,” he finished decisively.

He was impossible. “He has a name! It’s Jonesy! And just because you were about to leave, it doesn’t mean that you were being stupid. Nobody could have known-”

“I wasn’t being cautious. You can’t convince me otherwise. Now please wash your arm.” How many times was he going to tell her to wash her arm? How many times was she going to ignore it?

“Jughead, I mean it. You should have followed him. I’m not afraid of a gun.”

“Well, you should be. Guns are dangerous. Now can you wash your arm? So we can bandage it. It’s bleeding.” They were having two very different conversations.

“It’s a scratch,” she grumbled, finally heading over to the sink to wash her arm. It was the silliest argument of her life.

A knock came on her door. “Betty! Is everything okay?” she heard her landlady call out. She didn’t seem angry yet, she was probably just checking in because of the commotion earlier. But Betty knew that if she saw the broken window… Mrs. Cruz would lose it.

Jughead’s eyes widened. They forgot about their argument. “Who is that?”

She froze. “Oh no, we have to get out of here. Let’s go out through my window,” Betty said, turning off the sink. “I feel so bad; she’s going to have to pay for it. I can never show my face here again. Oh my god, I almost forgot about my cookies.”

“Your cookies?”

She opened her fridge and took out a Tupperware of cookies she baked a couple of days ago. Priorities.

Jughead brought out his wallet and placed four 100 dollar bills on the counter. “That should be enough for the window,” he said, carrying the first aid kit and walking over to pick up Jonesy, who was in front of her door. Betty couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness, even if he was being impossible just a minute ago.

They went into her bedroom, and Betty took her laptop. “Oh no,” she said, worried when she saw the broken glass.

Jughead took her blanket on her bed and laid it over the shattered glass so they wouldn’t get wounded crawling over. He handed her the first aid kit and he swung one leg over the wall and he was on the street, holding Jonesy in his other hand. Betty thought he looked badass, but also adorable because he clutched her rabbit stuffed toy so tightly.

She handed him the first-aid kit and her laptop, which he placed on the floor, and Jughead held both her arms, helping her go over the wall and into the driveway. She wished she hadn’t worn a skirt today.

“Let’s go,” he said, taking her things and running into the car, throwing them into the backseat.

He started the engine and they drove away quickly, and Betty was taken back to the day before when she had hopped into Jughead’s car. They began driving away.

“That was close,” she said. He didn’t say a word.

“Have a cookie,” she said, handing him one after minutes of silence. He ignored it, even though there was no way he wasn’t hungry. “I actually think that was pretty cool,” she told him.

“It was not,” he said.

“How many people in the world get to say they were held at gunpoint?” she added with a smile. When he didn’t at all seem amused, she sighed. “Look, if you think you were stupid, you don’t want to hear what I did when that man pointed the gun at my face.”

He didn’t say anything, though his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

“He told me not to scream or move, and you know what I did?” she began. “I grabbed the gun. Like an idiot, I tried to take the gun from him. It’s why he pushed me and I scratched my shoulder. So call me stupid, too. And stop beating yourself up for this.”

Jughead exhaled heavily, eyes dark. “When a gun is pointed at you, Betty-”

“I know the lecture.”

“It seems like you didn’t,” he replied abruptly, irritated. “You don’t grab a gun when it’s pointed at you. You’re lucky he didn’t fire. Don’t ever do that again.”

How could he go from being so guilty earlier to chastising her now? He took everything too seriously. Would it cost him so much to laugh a little? Come to think of it, she had never seen him laugh…

“I caught him off-guard, though, didn’t I?” she added lightheartedly.

“You could have died,” he said, staring straight ahead.

Betty took another bite out of her cookie. “But I didn’t die.”

“You almost did. From now on, you’re not leaving the building.” He was clearly not just irritated with himself now, but also her.

She glared at him. There was no way he was serious. “I’m sorry? I’m not a prisoner.”

“I let you out once, and you grabbed someone’s gun-”

“You took me on a walk last night, though-”

“For five minutes.”

“Then don’t let me out of your sight!”

He still refused to look at her. “Believe me, I won’t. Put a band-aid on your wound.”

Betty ignored him, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes. It was barely a wound and he was being completely unreasonable.

He seemed to be thinking, too. Of what, she couldn’t place. After a while, he finally glanced at her before sighing. Then he pulled into a random parking spot.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice gentle. He stopped the engine and finally looked at her, blue eyes still remorseful. But there was still something unreadable about him like his guilt went deeper than what had just happened today. She wondered why he blamed himself so much – it was a simple mistake.

“You’ll let me out of the building?” she asked, hopeful.

He considered it. “Maybe. But I meant that I’m sorry you got hurt,” he told her sincerely. “And I’m sorry for not chasing the guy from earlier. I just didn’t want to put you in any more danger than I already did.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to be sorry, like I said,” she told him, and Betty looked right into his eyes, which were so blue she wondered if he got lost in them when he looked into the mirror. “Now can we go? I’m starving.”

He shook his head, almost amused at her demand for food. He took the first-aid kit in the backseat and handed it to her. “We’ll leave once you put a band-aid on your cut.”

She sighed and reluctantly did just that.

When they arrived at the garage of the Serpents building after she finally put two band-aids on her wound, Jughead couldn’t shake what had happened earlier. His guilt hung in the air, sweeping through him and his body.

As they walked into the building, he called out to her. “Hey, Betty?” he said and she stopped, turning around.

Her green eyes looked at him. “Yeah?”

“I promise you,” he began, eyes not leaving hers, “that we’ll catch these guys who are after you. And that as long as you’re with us, nothing like this will ever happen to you again.”

“Okay,” she said simply. “Can we eat now?”

She didn’t think much of it, but Jughead was determined to keep his promise more than anything. He didn’t know how he’d live with himself if Betty had come this close to getting hurt again.

He caught up to her. “I suggest you eat upstairs with Veronica. Toni and Cheryl will be there, too. I need to talk to Archie,” he said to her. Veronica barely ever left her room unless she was going outside the building, and Cheryl and Toni had no assignment to fulfill. Not to mention, Betty could provide useful help to the Serpents’ “one-woman hacking team” as Veronica called it.

Archie was the first one to talk to them when they arrived at the basement.

“Hey, guys. You’re back sooner than I thought,” he told them.

“Hi,” Betty greeted him.

“How did the assignments go so far?” Jughead asked. He had left Archie in charge in the meantime.

“Good. Fangs and Pea are already on their way to the Thorpe deal,” he said. “What happened to your arm?” he then asked when he saw Betty’s band-aids.

“I was attacked with a gun,” Betty explained, but she was beaming.

Archie gave her a weird look. “What?! And why are you smiling?”

“It was a thrill, come to think of it,” she answered.

“It was not,” Jughead countered.

Was she truly so unfazed, even when a gun was pointed at her? She was impossible. It made Jughead nervous, that she was so casual about everything. It was why he was determined to keep her in the building as much as possible starting now. When she told him she had grabbed the man’s gun… he didn’t even want to think about how it made him feel.

“I’ll get you your food,” Jughead told Betty, walking towards the buffet table. He heard her say, _“I can get my own”_ behind him, but he decided to not respond to that.

He placed a lot of food on her plate, seeing as to the amount of food she ate for breakfast. _Savor your food, Jughead. You eat like a soldier._ Betty, he had realized, really liked her food.

When he returned, Archie looked completely freaked out by the story Betty no doubt just told him. His eyes were twice their size and his hand was to his mouth.

“You know where Veronica’s room is, right?” Jughead said, handing over the tray of food to Betty. “Archie and I will follow.”

“That’s a lot of food, Jug,” Betty said, looking right at the heaps of mashed potato and chicken on her plate. There she went again with the nickname.

“I can eat the leftovers,” he remarked.

“Oh no, I wasn’t complaining,” she replied, giving him a sweet smile. “You know me so well already. Oh! I almost forgot.” She took something out of her pocket. It was a folded piece of paper. “This is the list you asked for last night,” she said, handing it to him. Then she was on her way up.

“She was attacked with a gun and she’s happily about to eat mashed potatoes?” Archie said, perplexed as they watched her leave. “And what’s with her grabbing the gun, too? Is she crazy?”

Jughead wasn’t even questioning it anymore. He supposed the most predictable thing about Betty Cooper was that she was unpredictable and full of surprises. “Let’s go upstairs. We need to talk about what happened.”

“Let’s get food first,” Archie protested.

“This is more important,” he said, leaving. He heard Archie sigh behind him.

“So what’s so important that the food has to wait?” his best friend said, dejected as they headed upstairs into the closed bar.

When they were in the quiet, he began talking. “Betty told you the whole story, I assume?” he asked. When Archie nodded, he continued. “So she mentioned that the guy who attacked her was nothing like the two men from yesterday, right? It’s true. He looked nothing like a Ghoulie. He was in a suit and he drove away in a BMW.”

“A BMW? That’s unlike the Ghoulies at all,” Archie said. “Not to mention, the Ghoulies never just send one man to do something. It’s always at least two.”

“Exactly. He was reckless, but not in the way the Ghoulies are,” he told him. The Ghoulies were reckless in the sense that they liked to brag and make useless threats. They liked to show off their numbers. Meanwhile, this guy was laying low but making amateur mistakes.

“Then there’s somebody else who’s after Betty?” Archie conjectured. Jughead was afraid Archie would confirm his suspicion.

He nodded. “Yes. And I fear whoever it is might be more dangerous than the Ghoulies. Or worse, they might be working together.”

The guy wasn’t trained, yes. When Betty grabbed his gun, she put up a good fight. That wouldn’t’ve happened if it had been a Ghoulie attacking her, considering they were trained well in combat. But the man clearly had money, telling from the expensive suit and the BMW he drove away in, which made Jughead wonder how he was tied to this situation.

He opened up the list that Betty had made. Her handwriting was cursive and neater than any other penmanship he’d seen in his life. He scanned the names, Archie silently reading beside him, and one in particular stood out.

  1. _Nicholas – He didn’t give me a surname._



_- 5 months ago: he had me go through the security of this company called Grande Enterprises and access files on money transfers (he gave no reason)_

_\- He paid very well._

Grande Enterprises was Delilah Grande’s firm. Delilah Grande from yesterday, aka one of their biggest clients.

Exactly five months ago, the Serpents and Delilah Grande’s firm made their first transaction.

Archie cursed when he saw the name. “Nicholas? Who the fuck is Nicholas and what does he want with Delilah Grande and her money transfers? Do you think it has to do with us?”

Jughead was sure that it had something to do with them. He motioned for Archie. “Meeting upstairs.”

Betty knocked on Veronica’s door. It opened, and Toni appeared smiling at her. “You’re back. Come in,” she said, and Betty was glad to feel the cool AC hit her when she came inside.

“Hi. Jughead said I could eat here. Is that okay?” she asked.

“Of course. This is the only place Veronica eats,” Toni told her.

Betty recalled that Veronica said that her place was where everyone else hung out. She could see why – her room was the perfect place to stay.

Her room was identical to hers in terms of dimensions, but there were a lot more things more in it. Her bedsheets were a deep purple, unlike Betty’s plain white ones, and she had a floor lamp that immediately made the quarter look like a hotel room. Not to mention, it was carpeted. How cool was that?

Veronica was in front of her desktop. She spun her chair to look at her and smile. “Hi, Betty, welcome to the shared space I was talking about. You don’t have to knock. Especially since you’re part of the newly-named two-woman hacking team.”

“Honored to be a part of it,” she said excitedly.

She saw that Cheryl was standing and facing the corner, talking to someone on the phone with her voice low. It looked serious.

“Have you guys eaten?” Betty asked.

“Mhm. What’s that on your shoulder? I don’t remember you having it this morning,” Toni said, seeing the band-aids on her arm.

“Is it a cut?” Veronica said, turning her attention away from her computer.

Betty took a seat on the beanbag Toni offered her and ate a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “It’s kind of a long story, but today at my apartment-”

“Wait! I want to hear it!” Cheryl exclaimed and she sat down with them on the carpet.

Toni gave her girlfriend a look. “What was that call about?” Her face was serious.

Cheryl shook her head, looking at Toni in the silent language couples did. Betty could tell they had been together for a while from the way they acted.

“Nothing,” Cheryl said dismissively, though from the way Toni sighed, Betty wasn’t so sure that it was nothing. “Well, go on,” Cheryl said to Betty expectantly.

Betty nodded. “Well, I went into my room to get my things and there was a man inside, holding a gun. He had a suit and all! Very strange,” she said, and then she recounted the story the same way she did to Archie. When she mentioned her grabbing the gun, Veronica grinned. It was the opposite of Archie’s reaction.

“That’s so badass!” Veronica said excitedly, clapping her hands together. “You just grabbed his gun like that?”

Toni shook her head. Her reaction was more similar to Archie’s and Jughead’s. “That was dangerous. Thank god you’re okay.”

“I think it’s pretty cool,” Veronica commented. “I mean, I would do it.”

“Of course you would,” Cheryl said disapprovingly. “Betty, as cool as that may have been, you can’t grab people’s guns when they’re pointed at you. Don’t copy Veronica Lodge, or you’ll get yourself in a lot of trouble.”

Betty froze, a bell ringing in her head.

“Hey!” Veronica playfully glared at Cheryl. “You and Toni are the ones training me for combat, and I learn all my skills from you.”

“You barely even train. You just sit here all day and give people fake identities and whatever it is hackers do,” Toni said to her. She turned to Betty. “And did you say he had a BMW?”

“Wait. Veronica, what did Cheryl say your last name was?” Betty said.

Veronica looked at her, expression changing. “Lodge. Why?”

“That name is familiar,” Betty told her.

There were many names on the Ghoulies’ servers. But there was one that showed up way more times than the rest. _Lodge._

“Are you in any way related to Lodge Industries?”

Cheryl and Toni gave each other a knowing look. Veronica’s face fell, eyes troubled. “Yes… Why?”

The words _Transaction with Lodge Industries_ were all too familiar.

“Because the Ghoulies,” she remembered, “are closely affiliated with a company called Lodge Industries.”

The room fell silent.

Just then, the door opened without a knock. It was Archie and Jughead. Jughead looked at all of them, face uneasy, and announced, “We need to talk.”


	4. "Please take me there and I’ll love you forever."

“No. There’s just no way,” Veronica said, shaking her head in disbelief. The members of the inner circle were all sitting down on Veronica’s bed, discussing what they had just discovered: that someone named Nicholas was after Delilah Grande, one of the Serpents’ clients, and that Lodge Industries was tied to the Ghoulies. Betty felt her chest tighten – she was involved in two of the findings.

“Do you think the two are related?” Cheryl asked.

Veronica nodded glumly. “I’m unsure, but I think I have an idea of who ‘Nicholas’ is. You’re not gonna like it.”

Archie turned to her. “Who?”

“He’s an old… friend of mine,” she explained. “He was always close to my father. It’s a long shot, but his name is Nicholas, too. _Nick,_ actually. That’s what I called him.”

“What does he look like?” Jughead asked.

“Hm. The last time I saw him, he was still at Harvard, so maybe his look changed. But he’s a bit shorter than Archie, black curly hair-”

Betty shot her head up. “Oh my god. That’s the guy who attacked me. Right, Jughead?” Jughead nodded. “Does he have a perpetual scowl?”

“That’s Nick,” Veronica agreed. “And he’s not physically… skilled. You grabbed his gun? Fantastic. It’s what that asshole deserves.”

“Don’t grab people’s guns,” Toni chastised.

“Won’t Nick wonder why Betty was with someone who had a gun?” Cheryl said.

Jughead nodded. “He’s probably making guesses now. But nobody knows who I am, let alone who the leader of the Serpents is,” he said. “It’s safe to say that Nick is working with Hiram Lodge and is tied to the Ghoulies,” he continued. “And that they’re after the Serpents. _And_ Betty.” He looked at Betty, his face still guilty no doubt from earlier. Everyone, too, looked worried to a degree. Betty wondered why Veronica’s father was such a threat. She made a mental note to ask about it later.

“What do we do?” Archie said.

Jughead thought for a moment, coming up with a plan. “Toni, see if Peter has anything for us – we need to know what the Ghoulies are up to. If he insists on a meeting, then sure. I’ll leave Archie and Cheryl in charge of all Serpent business tomorrow if ever. Betty and Veronica, find out what you can about the ties between the Ghoulies and Lodge Industries this afternoon and tomorrow. The same thing goes as the last meeting – this is all confidential. We’ll only let the Serpents know about this once we have sufficient information on what this situation is. Got it?”

Everyone nodded. “Who’s Peter?” Betty asked.

“Our informant,” Toni answered. “He works for one of the Ghoulies’ clients.”

Jughead stood up. “That’s all. You can eat now, Archie,” he said.

“I’ll stay behind for a bit,” Archie said.

“I’ll contact Peter,” Toni said, looking at Cheryl. Cheryl smiled at her and they both stood along with Jughead, leaving Veronica’s room.

Once they left, Veronica wordlessly got up and went to her computer. Her demeanor was different than it had been a few minutes ago. “Ronnie, are you okay?” Archie asked Veronica, walking towards her desk, his expression soft. Betty immediately felt like she was third-wheeling them, so she remained quiet.

Veronica quickly nodded. “Yeah, I just thought the drama with my family was over. I don’t mean to put the Serpents in danger again,” she told him, turning around to look at Betty. “I’m sorry, too, Betty. About Nick.”

Betty shook her head. “Oh, it’s alright. You have nothing to do with it,” she told her reassuringly, picking her tray of food back up again and deciding to eat while Archie and Veronica continued to talk.

“That’s not you putting us in danger. Plus, we’ve managed your father before. We can do it again,” Archie said, gently placing a hand on Veronica’s shoulder. She stiffened.

“You should probably have lunch, Archie,” Veronica said softly, not meeting his eye as she looked at her computer. “I swear I heard your stomach earlier,” she added with a laugh.

Archie smiled at her. “Okay, yeah, I’m starving. Just don’t – don’t spiral and blame yourself, okay?”

Veronica nodded. “Sure.” Her voice was reserved as if she were holding something in. Betty hadn’t heard Veronica talk that way before.

“See you later,” he told Veronica, and he turned to Betty as an afterthought. “You too, Betty.” Then he left.

Betty then walked over to Veronica, sitting down beside her. Now probably wasn’t a good time to ask. “What do you have so far?” she asked her as she continued eating.

“Well…” Veronica began, showing her the screen. “I’m gonna need your help getting around the security around the Ghoulies’ database that you built. Any ideas?”

Betty thought for a moment. “All the holes that I’ve thought of when I built the security, I’ve closed,” Betty explained. “What were you able to get?”

“Just this,” she replied. Veronica’s desktop showed only a portion of the Ghoulies’ transactions. Specifically, the more useless ones – them pulling out money from their accounts. No information on why they were pulling this money out whatsoever.

“I put a backdoor, though I’m sure they’ve changed the settings by now. I had no plans of ever working with them again,” Betty told her. “But assuming that they got someone to replace me… I doubt they tinkered with my system besides changing a few settings to block unauthorized users. But I’m sure we can get through the backdoor somehow.”

“I’ve been poking holes for days and I’ve found nothing,” Veronica answered. “Well, besides their bank transactions. But that’s it.”

“It’s a long-shot getting root access,” Betty said, “And we don’t need full access, anyway. Just their transactions with Lodge Industries… If we can build this system to get the authentication we need – not for root access, but just to view their transactions…”

Veronica’s face lit up. “Right. I suggest that instead of building a password-stealing malware, we can subvert the login mechanism and bypass authentication altogether, so even if they change their verification settings, we can still get in. I’m sure we can do that,” she added, a grin growing on her face. “You’re brilliant, Betty.”

Betty loved that she had someone who did the same thing as her. How were the Serpents so cool? She took a bite out of her chicken. “I’ll finish eating then I can get to work.”

The following day, Jughead went to Veronica’s room after getting ready and having breakfast to check on their progress. He assumed that Betty would already be up and doing work, given that she woke up at an ungodly hour. Today, he and Toni would be headed to meet with their informant.

Betty, who was beside Veronica, greeted him with her ever-joyful face. They were in front of a computer that had a lot of code. He could never bring himself to understand it, though.

“Jughead, good morning!” Betty said. She was in a baby blue long-sleeved shirt and denim shorts, her hair braided down below her shoulders. It occurred to him once again that she had a band-aid underneath the sleeve because of him. Because he had put her in danger. He tried to ignore the guilty pit in his stomach, but he simply couldn’t.

He regarded her. “Hey.”

Veronica smiled. “Betty has your seat, Jughead,” she teased. Betty did have his usual seat in the morning.

“That’s too bad,” Betty said, laughing. “Sorry, Jughead, but I’ll be way more useful to Veronica than you right now.”

He nodded. He couldn’t argue with that. Besides, he didn’t mean to stay long. “Any update?” he asked.

“We’re still working on it. Hacking is boring work. But we’ll have it by tonight, hopefully,” Betty said. “We could’ve had it yesterday, but Veronica insisted on going to sleep.”

“A girl needs her beauty rest. And I work better in the day time,” Veronica remarked. “The only time I should ever be up past 9 pm is to party.”

“Wise words, V,” Betty said with a nod. So they already had nicknames. “Are you and Toni leaving already?” Betty asked him.

He nodded. “Yes. Peter lives in Palm Springs,” Jughead said. “And if we’re going to make it by 1 pm, we have to leave now.”

“Palm Springs? Damn,” Betty said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Does he live in a resort or something?”

Jughead nodded. “His boss pretty much does,” he replied. The Serpents paid Peter Jacobson well to make up for the danger of being a double-agent.

“By the way,” Betty began, bringing out her phone. “Speaking of bosses, my boss and landlady are texting and calling nonstop. My landlady, especially. She thinks I was robbed. Or kidnapped. I have no idea what to say to them. I’m afraid they’ll soon file a police report. Should I throw away my phone altogether?”

He extended his hand. “I’ll get you a new number and I’ll leave some Serpents to handle it,” he informed her.

She furrowed her brows. “What are you gonna make them do?”

“We’ll come up with an excuse and pay off your landlady. You’ll have the rest of your things by tomorrow,” he explained.

“The Serpents are great at covering tracks. We help people change their identities, remember?” Veronica piped in.

Betty’s eyes were wide with amazement. “Okay, then. In the Serpents we trust,” she said, handing him her phone. “The password is four zeros.”

He nodded. She trusted the Serpents. “I’ll go now.”

As he turned around, Betty called out to him. “Thank you and stay safe!”

“You, too,” he replied, shutting the door behind him.

“You’ve had an eventful couple of days,” Toni said to Jughead during the drive. “Courtesy of Betty.”

Jughead made a turn. Toni was right. “Yeah. She seems to get along with all of you.”

Toni nodded with a smile. “Oh, she’s great. Very friendly and talkative.”

He didn’t know why, but he smiled. Betty _was_ incredibly talkative. When he wasn’t around her, he noticed and felt the silence a lot more than he had before he met her.

He was sure that if he was with Betty in the car ride now, she’d probably ask him about food or Serpent-life.

“Yesterday, Cheryl’s brother called,” Toni suddenly said. Her tone was different.

“Oh?”

“Her mom’s condition got worse,” Toni replied. “I can tell it hurts her, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. Or even acknowledge what she’s feeling.”

Jughead knew that Cheryl always had it rough when it came to her parents. She didn’t talk much about it – mostly only to Toni, but from what he knew, Cheryl’s mother was terminally ill and only had a few months left. He understood how Cheryl felt to a degree – to have a parent that you hated for the longest time suffer. It wasn’t something you celebrated, despite all the painful memories they had caused. It was the most confusing kind of sadness.

“Does she plan on visiting her?” Jughead asked. Cheryl’s family came all the way from Washington, so it would be a long way from Los Angeles.

Toni sighed. “I don’t know. It’s up to her and her mental health, but sometimes I feel like she wants to see her. Not to forgive her, but receive closure in some way.”

“Talk to her about it again. Maybe she just needed time to think,” he replied.

“Honestly, I have a lot to talk to Cheryl about,” Toni said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know how I feel about the Serpents.”

Jughead nodded. Toni never wanted to stay in the Serpents for as long as she already had. She was ready to leave – until Cheryl came along four years ago. Toni fell in love and found it a worth reason to stay in the gang, at least for a while. But Cheryl, it seemed, had grown comfortable in the company of Serpents. Toni had made it clear to Cheryl a while back that she didn’t see the Serpents as a long-term arrangement, though from the way things were lately, they seemed to be getting too comfortable.

Of course, Jughead would prefer if they both stayed. He’d known Toni almost all his life and they were both his most trusted friends. But if they decided to leave one day, he wouldn’t blame them at all.

“Talk to her about that, too. You’ve been keeping it for too long now,” Jughead replied.

“I will. Soon. Maybe when all of this blows over,” Toni said, nodding. “How about you? Any plans to leave?”

He shook his head, almost laughing at the question. “God, no.”

“Seriously? Don’t be afraid to think outside this gang, Jughead,” she said. “There’s a life out there for you. I remember you wanted to be a writer so badly, what happened to that?”

Jughead felt his chest tighten. “That wasn’t where I was meant to end up,” he told her dismissively.

“You’ve dedicated years of your life to the Serpents. And now we’re doing well. Maybe it’s time you thought about your own wants for once,” Toni told him. “You can’t blame yourself forever.”

His words hit him like a pile of bricks. She was wrong. He would blame himself for the rest of his life for the things that went down those years ago. Quick flashes went through his head: his father’s anger, the waiting room at the hospital, the police making an arrest… They were all his fault. He’d pay for them forever.

“Let’s not talk about this right now,” he said quickly. There were some things he wouldn’t even talk to Archie or Toni about. And he had no plans to ever talk about those things to anyone. Ever.

The rest of the ride was quiet.

“I normally love working alone, but we’re on the same wavelength and I’ve never loved hacking more,” Veronica told Betty as she typed on her computer. They were about halfway through coding.

Betty had her laptop on her lap. “Honestly, agreed,” she said, a smile on her face as she scanned through the security information they had so far.

“So how long have you been hacking?” Veronica asked, not lifting her gaze.

“High school, I learned to code. I’d go on forums and teach myself the programming languages. It was a hobby that just helped me… get distracted,” Betty answered, eyes on her screen. “Then I tried hacking programs using Python, and the rest is history. How about you?”

“Same! Forums forums forums. Python, obviously, is how I became proficient,” Veronica said. “Who knows, we might have even talked on the same forum,” she contemplated.

Betty smiled at the idea of that. They continued their work until Betty found something interesting. “Hm, the Ghoulies’ new hacker is lousy at their job.”

“How so?”

“Maintaining the program I made should be easy. But they failed to update a pathway I made,” Betty told her.

Veronica turned to Betty’s laptop. “Seriously?”

“Honestly, if they just read the manual I made, they wouldn’t be so vulnerable to our moves… but that’s a good thing for us. Our job got a whole lot easier. We don’t need to code that’s prepared to break through all the pathways,” Betty said, showing the security to her.

Veronica was beaming. “Even just one will do – and we know which one now,” Veronica said happily, clapping her hands together. “Okay, that’s wonderful. Let’s divide the work and get this done before Toni and Jughead get back.”

The resort that Peter had told Toni about was unsurprising because it was both extravagant and isolated – very much like the life his boss, Richard Chadwick lived. Richard Chadwick was an elusive video game mogul (and a drug criminal) who lived a life of luxury away from the masses, which was why he exclusively stayed in hotels and resorts like _The Sandy Plaza._ In short, he was an asshole. But the Ghoulies were lucky to be under his payroll.

“We can only meet between 1:30 to 2:30. So he’ll be here any minute now,” Toni informed him when they arrived at the Italian restaurant by the resort. “His coworkers will be in a buffet while Richard will be getting a massage.”

 _Gross._ Jughead felt bad for whoever had to touch that old man’s back.

Peter showed up about a minute after Jughead and Toni got their seats. He looked very different from when they had met six months ago, with his once short-cropped brown hair now a semi-bald dyed blond.

“Jughead, Toni, it’s been a while,” he said, a grin on his face. He was still the same arrogant 20-something, though. He wasn’t reliable, except when it came to money.

“You got a makeover,” Toni commented. She called a waiter and they ordered food, and then their meeting began.

“And I see you both look the same,” he remarked. “So what do you want to know? As I told Toni on the phone yesterday, we’ve had limited business with the Ghoulies lately, but I’m happy to share what I know,” he said to them, leaning into his chair and crossing his arms.

“We want to know all there is,” she told him, leaning forward. She mostly did the talking during these things.

“As I said, we’ve conducted very little business with them,” he began, “Which, come to think of it, is odd. But maybe they have other clients, who knows.”

 _Another client,_ Jughead thought. Aka Lodge Industries, which was Wall Street and bigger than Richard Chadwick. “When was the last time you met with them?”

“Ten days ago. But before that, we hadn’t had a big transaction in a month,” he replied.

“So in short, you have nothing for us? It didn’t sound that way yesterday,” Toni said, irritated. “You’re the one who insisted on a meeting.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Peter said, taking a bite out of a breadstick. “Don’t cut my payment in half. I have something that could be big.”

Toni glared at him. “Could be? We drove two hours for this.”

“Okay, it’s big. And I’m sure you’ll double my payment when you hear this,” he said, dropping the breadstick on his plate and rubbing his hands together. Jughead hated how theatrical Peter was – he acted like he was in a movie. He leaned forward sneakily. “Damian Torres left the Ghoulies two months ago. Or was kicked. Who knows.”

Damian Torres was one of the important Ghoulies, meaning that he had something close to a brain. As far as Jughead knew, he was the sole brains of the Ghoulies for the longest time, despite being one of the younger ones. Damian was the adviser to the Ghoulies’ leader.

“What? How did that happen?” Toni asked.

“I don’t know. But word has it he’s in Vegas now for three weeks. He’s been state-hopping,” Peter said. “He’s staying at the Four Seasons.”

Toni frowned. “He can afford that?”

“You don’t know? Damian’s family comes from old money,” Peter said. “He joined the Ghoulies because he fell in love with one. But he could’ve left any time.”

 _Because he fell in love with one?_ What a ridiculous reason to join a gang. Jughead barely believed it.

“Is he on bad terms with the Ghoulies?” Jughead asked. It was the first time he had spoken.

“Still an observer, Jones?” Peter said, amused. “But yes. They had a misunderstanding. But nothing too personal. No deep grudge. It’s just a very simple case of… irreconcilable differences. In short, an amicable divorce.”

So Damian’s loyalties were uncertain. That was something to take not of.

“I told you this was useful information. So, tell me, why the interest?” Peter asked.

“We’re not telling you,” Toni said quickly. Again, he wasn’t exactly reliable when it came to keeping secrets.

Jughead considered the idea of meeting Damian Torres. If he was the brains of the Serpents and left only two months ago, he definitely knew important information. He decided that a trip to Vegas did not seem like a bad idea.

“We did it!” Betty exclaimed at 5 pm, scrolling through the list of transactions between the Ghoulies and Lodge Industries they had uncovered. Their program had worked. Faster than they’d thought. They stared at Veronica’s PC, celebratory smiles on their faces as they looked at all the information they now had. Lodge Industries and the Ghoulies were closely-knit. The Ghoulies have been receiving large sums of money from Lodge Industries for months.

They high-fived. “Unfortunately, I’m too lazy to interpret any of this,” Veronica said. “More like, I’m too happy we solved it and I don’t want to be the first to read about the crap my father’s up to. Let’s leave it to the others.”

“Agreed,” Betty said, leaning back into her seat.

“I say we go downstairs,” Veronica announced, standing up.

“Why?”

“Drinks. Come on, before many people arrive,” she said. _At 5 pm?_ Betty decided to roll with it.

“I’d love that,” Betty said, standing up and stretching. “I feel like I’ve been sitting down for ages. I should probably get changed first, though.” She looked down at her shorts and flip flops.

“Okay, yes. Me too,” Veronica said. “I got too excited. I’ll put on my best cocktail dress.”

Betty headed out, glad to have a friend. “I’ll be back!”

Thirty minutes later, Betty and Veronica were drunk. Multiple shots within a short period of time did that to a person.

“I suppose now is as good a time as ever to tell you everything,” Veronica said, downing her fifth shot of tequila before flinching and looking at Betty. “You’re probably wondering why we freaked out when you mentioned Lodge Industries. So here is the story about my crazy family and how I became a Serpent.”

Betty nodded quickly. She was also five shots in and beginning to feel the room spin. “Okay, okay, spill all of it!” she said enthusiastically. She was a very confident drunk (well, more confident than she usually was).

“So I come from New York. Lodge Industries is the family business – you know, real estate, cruises, that sort of stuff,” Veronica said, waving off the memory dismissively. “But my father also does a bunch of illegal stuff – drugs, weapons, you name it. My mother doesn’t really get involved. But she enables him, which I guess can be just as bad. But really, my father has always been the villain of my life.”

“Okay, I’m following.”

“I didn’t want anything to do with it,” she continued. “So I ditched Harvard on my first day of class and moved to LA. I disappeared just like that.” Veronica snapped her fingers. “But I was a mess. I mean, I hadn’t lived independently _ever_. I knew how to hack and save money, which was it. I couldn’t get a job because I didn’t have a college degree and I didn’t want to become a singer-actor or anything.”

Betty realized her story was very similar to Veronica’s, except that her parents weren’t filthy rich.

“By chance, I met Archie at this very bar,” Veronica said, and her eyes softened at the mention of Archie. “I was wasted – I don’t remember that night at all. But I told him everything, apparently. And the next day, I woke up here. He promised he’d help. He somehow convinced Jughead and everyone that I was a valuable member and that it would be a good idea to take down my father somehow. And we did. We dug up enough dirt on him and he went to prison. He got out eventually and rebranded the company – but ever since, Lodge Industries has taken a big hit on the reputation.”

Betty nodded, taking another shot. “Wow.”

“Right? It’s crazy,” Veronica said.

“This song is great,” Betty said, closing her eyes for a while and appreciating the music. She forgot what they were just talking about – only that Archie was somewhere in the mix of their topic of conversation. “So, how long have you liked Archie?” she then asked. She was too drunk to think about her question.

Veronica began coughing. She shook her head. “What? Why would you ask me that?”

But she was a bad liar. Betty laughed. “It’s obvious!”

“Is it really?” Veronica looked worried. “Well, I guess there’s no denying it… But I don’t know. I don’t remember ever _not_ liking him. I always did, no questions asked. I’m hopeless, though.” Veronica was a very sentimental drunk, Betty figured.

Betty looked at Veronica sadly. If only Archie felt the same way. It was odd because from the way Archie talked to her earlier… maybe Veronica wasn’t so hopeless. But Betty couldn’t be too sure.

Speaking of Archie, he arrived at their table. “Oh my god, so this is where you two are,” he said, exasperated as he looked at the emptied shot glasses on their table. “Toni texted and is asking for an update. Says you haven’t texted her back, Ronnie.”

Veronica looked at Archie for way too long before she responded. “Oh yeah… I forgot to tell her. Well, we got through their network! So it’s tequila time,” Then she raised another shot and drank it.

Archie smiled at her endearingly as he joined them. “I’m getting déjà vu.”

He was, of course, referring to the first time he and Veronica had met.

Betty saw the man beside their table take another glance at Veronica. “Veronica, that cute guy over there has been looking at you since we got here,” she said, not-so-sneakily pointing at him. She laughed. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

“Who?” Archie said, looking at the guy. He made a face. “He’s not even good-looking.”

“He’s cute, but not as cute as Jughead, if I’m being honest,” Betty said.

Archie grimaced again. “Jughead’s cute?”

“Oh my gosh, we should call Jughead,” Betty suggested, her face lighting up as she shot her eyes to Archie. “Archie, call him.”

“He’s probably driving.”

“Then Toni will pick up! Come on, call him,” she said, her hands clasped together to say _please._ “It will be fun. Right, V?” she turned, but Veronica was gone.

Archie noticed, too. “Where did she go?” he asked, standing up. When he saw she was talking to the man next to their table, he got up and gave Betty his phone. “Stay right here,” he ordered.

“Okay,” Betty said, nodding slowly. He did not look too happy to see Veronica talking to the guy.

She unlocked his phone which thankfully had no password ( _how trusting_!) and she called Jughead’s phone.

An answer came two rings later. “Hello, Archie?” Toni’s voice greeted her.

“TONI!” Betty exclaimed. “Put the phone on speaker!”

“Oh my god, who is this? Okay, you’re on speaker,” she said, voice weirded out.

“Betty?” she heard Jughead’s voice.

Betty laughed, overjoyed for a reason she didn’t know. “Jughead! It’s me!”

“Uh, yes. Why are you calling? Is everything okay?” he asked, voice tense.

“Come back!”

“We’re 5 minutes away,” Toni told her.

“We got through the Ghoulies server! Celebrate!”

“Are you drunk? Can I talk to Archie?” said Jughead’s voice. He sounded worried.

“GUESS!” she said, and then she ended the call. She was so dizzy now, she couldn’t remember what she had just done.

“She’s definitely drunk,” Toni said once they arrived at the building and were on their way inside the bar. “I guess Archie’s watching over her. Unless he’s drunk, too – which is unlikely because he’s the noisiest drunk I’ve ever seen and I didn’t hear him at all.”

Jughead cursed the traffic for turning their supposed 2-hour-trip to a 3-hour-trip. He hoped Betty wasn’t alone. It was only 5:30 pm and she was drunk?

When they walked in, Betty was sitting by a table, staring with a sober Archie. Jughead found himself relieved. Veronica stood next to their table, but she was laughing with another guy, seemingly drunk as well.

“What a weird sight,” Toni commented. “I’ll call Cheryl. Tell them to get a bigger table,” Toni said, heading upstairs.

Jughead approached them, and Betty’s drunken smile was unmistakable when she saw him. She was dressed differently than this morning, in a black skirt and a white sweater. “Jughead!” she announced.

He saw 10 emptied shot glasses on her table. Assuming she and Veronica had split them, then it meant they were both very drunk already. “Betty,” he said. “You’ve had a lot to drink.”

“This is me and Veronica. I didn’t have _ten_ shots,” she said proudly. “They were playing _Tequila_ earlier. What a treat, you missed it,” she continued, even happier than usual. She then began humming the song.

“How did this happen?” Jughead asked Archie.

Archie was looking at Veronica, who was all dressed up when he turned to him. “I don’t know. When Toni texted, I couldn’t find her or Veronica,” he said. “They hit it off really well today after getting through the server.”

He nodded. It was definitely on-brand for Veronica to celebrate with a drink after achieving something. And considering that it took both of them only a day to get to the Ghoulies network – it was certainly worth celebrating.

“At least they got through the server,” he said. “Toni and I learned something about the Ghoulies, too, so let’s get a better table.”

Archie stood up. “Veronica, let’s go,” he said firmly.

Veronica turned around. “Okay,” she said, waving at the guy and leaving as they headed for a table with more capacity.

“Who was that guy?” Jughead asked.

“I don’t know,” Archie replied sharply. He was in a bad mood, which was rare for his best friend. Was he jealous of the guy Veronica was talking to? Jughead couldn’t be too sure.

Betty picked up two more filled shot glasses. Jughead gave her a look. “We need you sober,” he informed her.

“Fine,” she said, pouting and putting them back on the table.

When everyone was finally gathered at their new table far from the crowd of non-Serpents, Betty and Veronica sat inebriated and each between two sober people – Jughead and Toni on either side of Betty and Archie and Cheryl on either side of Veronica. Jughead felt an odd sense of harmony – as though Betty was meant to be in their group all along.

Jughead slid a plate of fries to both of them. “No more tequila,” he told them.

Veronica sighed, picking up a fry and reluctantly chewing on it. “Okay, what is it you want to know?”

“You two dug up something on Lodge Industries,” Toni said.

“Right,” Veronica said, nodding slowly.

Betty laughed a little too loudly. “That’s a light way of putting it, Toni,” she said, smiling as if Toni said the most hilarious thing. Everyone except Veronica gave her a weird look. “We have access to _all_ their financial transactions with Lodge Industries. For the past six months, to be exact. It isn’t just ‘something’, we have everything.”

Betty was still talkative even when she slurred out her words. No surprise there.

“Why my father funds that subpar gang is beyond me,” Veronica mumbled, taking her second fry.

“How many transactions do you say?” Archie asked.

Betty and Veronica ignored him for a while, deciding to focus their attention on the fries. They each began eating more fries. As Veronica picked up a bottle of ketchup, Betty slid it away. “No ketchup,” Betty muttered.

Veronica laughed. “Sorry.”

They all looked at the two girls expectantly. When they said nothing, Cheryl spoke. “Did you hear what Archie said?”

“Wait. I was thinking,” Veronica said under her breath.

“Hm,” Betty began. “A lot. Like between 20 to 50,” Betty answered. 20 to 50?

“That’s a wide range,” Toni remarked.

“Either way, it was more than all other transactions combined,” Veronica informed them.

Now that was information. If the Ghoulies were being sustained by Lodge Industries… he couldn’t imagine the reason not having anything to do with Veronica. Of course they were out to get the Serpents. This seemed personal already.

“What did you two discover?” Archie asked Jughead and Toni.

“Damian Torres, isn’t part of the Ghoulies anymore,” Toni answered. “As of two months ago.”

“The hot one?” Veronica said, appalled as she ate another handful of fries. “Now the Ghoulies have no more eye candy. Truly a subpar gang. They lost their version of Archie Andrews.”

Everyone except Veronica froze – including Betty, who was in another world focusing on her fries, looked up at Veronica’s comment. It probably would’ve been a normal joke had it not been Veronica to Archie, because her close friends knew that Veronica was hopelessly into Archie. Jughead guessed that Betty knew, too, given her expression.

Archie, stunned, nodded slowly at her compliment. He remained clueless to Veronica’s feelings, though. “Honored to be compared to Damian,” he said with a pleased smile. Veronica seemed as though she forgot she said it.

“Why’d he leave?” Cheryl asked.

“We don’t know. But what we _do_ know is he’s staying in Vegas now,” Toni said. “Which brings us to Jughead’s plan.”

“Archie and I will be going to Vegas this Friday,” Jughead announced. “We’ll figure out a way to talk to Damian, get the information we need, and be back by Sunday.”

Archie looked thrilled. “Oh, absolutely, I’m down.”

Betty angrily dropped her fry back on the plate. “Why only Archie?”

“It’s a two-person job,” Jughead answered, surprised at her words. He couldn’t take Cheryl or Toni because they were a matching set. And Veronica didn’t do missions like these.

“Wrong. When did this David guy leave, again?” Betty asked.

“ _Damian_ ,” Veronica corrected.

“Two months ago,” Toni answered.

“See? And the Ghoulies hired me only a few weeks ago. Which means I can fill up holes in your story that this Derick guy can’t,” Betty said, looking right at Jughead.

“ _Damian_ ,” Veronica corrected one more time.

“We can always ask you when we get back,” Archie said.

“Exactly. It’s still a no,” Jughead said to her.

“Is this about you not wanting me to leave the building?” she asked again, narrowing her eyes at him.

He sighed. “It’s really not. Though what you did with the gun yesterday doesn’t help your case.”

“I want to go to Vegas,” she said sadly with a dramatic sigh, looking away and eating a fry.

Jughead would be lying if he said that he didn’t bad because Betty obviously wanted to get out of LA. She was always reiterating that her life was dull. But bringing her to Vegas could be dangerous. He didn’t want to risk anything, especially when the Ghoulies wanted her.

“We’ll tell the Serpents everything we know tomorrow. Archie, I’ll need you to book two rooms at the Four Seasons for two nights,” Jughead said.

“Seriously? Separate rooms? Aren’t you two best friends?” Cheryl said, frowning.

“Archie snores,” Jughead said, just as Archie said, “Jughead doesn’t sleep.”

“Make it three rooms, Archie,” Betty said.

Jughead shook his head at her. “ _Two rooms._ Our next move is we get what we can from what Betty and Veronica uncovered and figure out how we’ll be approaching Damian Torres this weekend at the Four Seasons,” he continued.

“The Four Seasons? Oh my god. Now I _really_ have to go. Isn’t that a five-star hotel? Please take me there and I’ll love you forever,” Betty declared suddenly, touching Jughead’s shoulder.

Everyone gave them a look. Nobody ever talked to him like that. Or touched his shoulder. He looked at her, and her insistent green eyes seemed to glow in the dark bar.

He swallowed and turned his gaze elsewhere, his heart stopping for half a second. “Maybe,” he said in a low voice. He didn’t know why he said it when _no_ was the obvious and rational answer.

Betty grinned, removing her hand. He immediately felt the absence of it. “That’s all I needed to hear. I’m very persuasive,” she said, then she proceeded to eat more fries.

Archie’s expression was something between horrified and impressed by how easily Betty was getting under Jughead’s skin. Jughead tried to ignore all his friends’ faces.

“That’s all for now,” he announced, standing up. He didn’t like staying at the bar for too long, anyway.

Betty stood up, too. “I’m tired. Take me to my room?”

Jughead didn’t even want to glance at the looks his friends were giving him. Confusion, horror, god knows what. He did not acknowledge, them – instead up and leaving his seat.

“Okay,” he said to Betty quietly, which she probably didn’t hear because of the music playing. Betty stood by his side as she slowly walked beside him.

She wobbled as she walked. Jughead took her arm so she wouldn’t trip. “We didn’t have time alone together today,” she commented when they were in the staircase.

She said it as if they’d known each other for weeks, or as though their relationship was something more than it was. In fact, they’d only known each other for two days. And he wasn’t sure if _friend_ was the right word to describe her. He only nodded at her statement, ignorant to what her implications were – if there were any.

“I’m so dizzy. I shouldn't have drunk six tequila shots in the span of 30 minutes,” Betty said, blinking slowly.

“At 5 pm, no less,” Jughead replied, not being able to hide the small smile she made on his lips. Drunk Betty, he realized, was pretty much the same as sober Betty – just louder and a little more chaotic and a much slower walker. But personality-wise, she didn’t get any happier or sadder. She was her usual self, which was a confident and enthusiastic chatterbox.

“Veronica’s amazing, by the way,” she informed him. “She’s so smart.”

Jughead, of course, already knew that. They stopped in front of her door.

She brought out her keys and put them in her keyhole. But instead of opening the door, she looked at him again. “How did you find these amazing people? Archie, Cheryl, Toni, Veronica – I’ve known them two days and all of you are already the most interesting people I’ve ever met,” she told him. It probably was her drunken musings, but Jughead felt the truth in her words.

“I know it’s an unanswerable question,” she continued. “What I mean to say… is that I lucked out in meeting you, Jughead. You saved my life. Twice.”

He didn’t think he deserved that much credit. He simply was in the right place at the right time. And yesterday, she had gotten hurt because of him. But he wasn’t going to argue with her again, especially when she was so sincere. So instead, he stuck his hands in his pockets and gave her a small smile.

“Wait. I have something,” she said, going into her room for a minute and coming back out the hallway. She was holding her laptop. “Everything about the Ghoulies and Lodge Industries is in here. I removed the password, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking the laptop. “You should rest now.”

“Oh, I will. I’m exhausted from looking at that screen all day,” she said with a sigh. Then, she smiled mischievously. “But… bringing me to Vegas will definitely help ease my exhaustion.”

So her persuasion game was beginning. He almost rolled his eyes. “Good night, Betty,” was all he said.

“It’s 6 pm but good night, I guess,” she joked. “Jonesy says good night, too,” she added, giving him a final smile and closing the door behind her.

Jughead looked at her computer, which was full of stickers of landmarks around the world – the Eiffel Tower, the Great Wall, the Pyramids. She probably had never been to any of those places at all, but they were on her computer, anyway.

Betty seemed so enthusiastic earlier about traveling. And while it was possibly dangerous and she would probably talk nonstop, he couldn’t imagine saying no. Maybe taking her to Vegas, if he was extra careful, wouldn’t be such a bad idea…

 _No._ He shouldn’t even be considering it. He was _not_ going to relent.


	5. “How many coincidences do you get yourself into?”

It took only a few hours for Jughead to relent to Betty’s convincing. He and Archie were due to leave on Friday at 6:00 pm, so she had Friday morning to persuade him.

It started with her sliding a Photoshopped picture of her playing poker in a casino under his door. Jughead picked it up and found it difficult not to smile at the ridiculous effort she went through. Behind the photo, a note read in her neat handwriting:

 _Good morning_ _😊_ _Reason #1: I’m very lucky._

She wasn’t wrong. She was lucky she wasn’t dead yet, considering the two attacks she went through in the span of two days. What kind of person grabbed an attacker’s gun and survived it? Certainly not unlucky people. But it was more of a coincidence than anything. He still wasn’t going to take her to Vegas when she didn’t have much to do there, anyway.

When he went to have breakfast downstairs, there was a folded card on his usual seat in the far corner. He placed his tray of food on the table and picked it up. It was another Photoshopped picture, this time of her in front of the Four Seasons Hotel. The note read:

_Happy breakfast! Reason #2: I’ll be safer in Vegas than in LA._

She had a point, he figured – it was not like anyone would be looking for Betty in Las Vegas. Still, it didn’t mean that taking Betty to the same place as a former Ghoulie would be safe, either. Damian Torres, while one of the more calculated Ghoulies, was still prone to violence like his peers. Not to mention, him having possibly no alliance was much more dangerous than someone with an alliance to the Ghoulies.

He was still going to say no. He shook his head, but he’d by lying if he said the two notes didn’t make his morning a little better and made him consider her proposition even a little bit.

After he ate was the meeting he announced for the Serpents, where he would tell them everything that was going on in the past few days. Once breakfast was finished, all Serpents gathered in the communal hall.

He saw Betty come downstairs with Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni. She looked pleased with herself. Jughead hadn’t seen her yet today, and he found himself a little happier to see her. She was in a t-shirt and jeans, standing some distance away, her hair down her shoulders. He didn’t realize he was staring until she caught his eye from the back of the room, a smile growing on her face.

Betty took something out of her pocket and waved it at him. It was another note. _The last one_ she mouthed.

Jughead, for a reason beyond his own knowledge, smiled quickly before turning away. When Archie arrived beside him, Jughead began the meeting.

Betty realized everyone was now looking at her. Jughead had just explained the situation – starting from how she and Jughead met to the discovery that Damian Torres had left the Ghoulies and was now in Vegas. The looks they were giving her weren’t all that pleasant: mistrust and vague annoyance were on many of their faces. The Serpents were protective of Jughead, she realized.

She also heard a few mumbles, like _why is she even here?_ and _why is she getting special treatment?_ But no one said anything to her directly, probably out of respect for Jughead.

She was beginning to feel self-conscious, so she crossed her arms over her chest.

“While Archie and I are gone, I’ll be leaving Toni and Cheryl in charge,” Jughead announced. It occurred to Betty again that Jughead was her age and leading all these people. It was a big responsibility she couldn’t ever imagine taking up (and succeeding at).

“All transactions, deliveries, and assignments set for the following days will go as usual,” he finished. “Any questions?”

Someone raised their hand. It was a teenager, tall and skinny. Jughead acknowledged him. “How do we know we can trust the blonde?” he asked, shooting a glare in Betty’s direction.

Betty glared back at him. Who the hell was that guy?

“Because we can, dummy,” Veronica said under her breath.

“The ‘blonde’?” Cheryl scoffed.

“That kid’s so nosy,” Toni muttered.

“As I mentioned, she got through the Ghoulies’ servers along with Veronica,” Jughead replied calmly. “And her name is Betty, not ‘blonde’. I trust her and so should all of you. Any more questions?”

Betty smiled. Another person raised his hand.

“Yes, Fangs?”

It was someone about Jughead’s age – shorter and dark-haired. “Will we tell Delilah Grande about this new development?”

Jughead shook his head. “No. Not yet, anyway. We won’t involve any of our clients until we know what threat we’re facing – specifically, until we’ve talked to Damian. Any more questions?”

When no one said anything, Jughead nodded. “Okay, Archie – read out the assignments.”

Archie took out his phone. “Alright, listen up: Theo and Boris will be checking on our partners from Nevada-”

Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni moved forward to hear the announcements better. Betty stopped listening because it didn’t involve her and because she saw Jughead making his way through the Serpents and walking towards her.

She smiled and took out her last note from her pocket. Last night, she had asked Veronica if she could do some photo-editing on her computer – which she did. She printed them out and placed three reasons why she should go to Vegas. She put the first two under his door and in his breakfast seat when she woke up.

“I got your notes,” he told her, tone very different from how he addressed the Serpents. His voice was gentler now, and there was a glint in his eye – maybe he wasn’t feeling too serious today. It was so rare she wanted to snap a photo of him like this, standing in fronting of her with the smile that suited him so well.

“But not the most important one,” she said, handing him the third and final one. There was no Photoshopped picture this time, just words, because she was so sure the reason was enough.

“This is what will convince you, if you haven’t been yet,” Betty told him confidently.

He opened up the note. _Reason #3: You’ll miss me if you say no._ _☹_

He read it and laughed. A real, heartfelt laugh. She was surprised. She didn’t think her joke was _that_ funny, but it seemed to amuse him, so she was glad she put it in.

It was the first time she had seen him laugh, and Betty felt another urge to snap a photo of him with his eyes crinkling and lips turned upward. He was really not hard to look at, especially when he looked genuinely happy. He ought to be happier more often.

“Well? Does that mean I’ve convinced you?” she told him, smug.

He folded the note and placed it in his back pocket, thinking for a moment. “Hm…”

“You don’t have to answer right away. I can be very patient,” she told him.

“Well, okay, sure,” he answered, finally conceding. “You can come to Vegas.”

“Oh my god, really?” she exclaimed quickly, beaming. Some Serpents turned around to look at them.

“On some conditions, though,” he told her. “You will stick with either me or Archie at all times – except for when we’re meeting with Damian. During that time, you will stay in your room. You will not meet Damian, okay?”

“Fine by me,” she said.

“And most importantly: No grabbing guns or anything like that. You will stay safe, okay? You will not welcome or approach danger,” he finished. “Deal?”

Betty grinned. “Deal. I will walk on eggshells and not meet the hot Ghoulie guy. You don’t have to worry about the rooms, either. Veronica convinced Archie to book three rooms.”

Jughead shook his head, half in disbelief and half in amusement. She had really thought this through.

Archie finished reading out the announcements, so Veronica made her way to the back. Upon seeing the delighted expression on Betty’s face, she proceeded to celebrate as well. “Oh my god, he said yes?” she asked.

She nodded. “He said yes!” It sounded as though she went down on one knee and proposed marriage to Jughead.

“I said yes,” Jughead said reluctantly, though he was smiling too.

Veronica gave him a thoughtful look. “Hm. Very interesting of Jughead to allow himself to be a pushover. And smile about it.”

He glared at her. “I’m not a pushover. Don’t make me change my mind.”

“Kidding, kidding,” Veronica said, laughing and turning to Betty. “Since your things are arriving today,” Veronica started, “will you do me the favor of allowing me to decorate your room while you’re gone?”

“Oh my god, seriously? You’d be doing _me_ the favor,” Betty told her earnestly.

“Yes! Okay, I’ll give you color scheme ideas later-”

“I’ll pick whatever’s pink,” Betty interrupted. “And I trust you completely, Veronica. _Complete_ artistic freedom.”

“Fantastic. Jughead, I’m going to need some cash,” Veronica said, turning to Jughead expectantly.

Betty worried for a second that Jughead would find it ridiculous. After all, she wasn’t a Serpent member yet. And he was already taking her to Vegas. Wasn’t asking for this too much? But instead, Jughead nodded. “How much?”

As Betty sat on the floor of her room and packed her things with the girls, they did not shut up about Jughead.

“When has Jughead ever changed his mind about something? Never,” Cheryl declared. She was sitting on Betty’s bed beside Toni. “He’s soft for you, Betty.”

Betty shook her head. “I think he’s just soft in general,” Betty said in all honesty.

Veronica laughed. “True, but he’s also the most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” she countered. She was on Betty’s desk, listing down things to buy for Betty’s room. “Believe me, if it was anyone else begging to go to Vegas, he’d say no.”

“Facts,” Cheryl agreed, pointing at Veronica. “And remember last night? His face was priceless.”

“Priceless? Why?” Betty asked, looking up from the floor.

“When you touched his shoulder and went all puppy eyes on him. He melted on the spot,” Toni told her.

 _Melted?_ What a word to use.

“And the way he smiled at you? I think he has a crush,” Veronica teased.

Betty didn’t believe it, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her heart flutter to hear Jughead’s friends saying those things.

“Watch me come back rich,” Betty said to Archie as they placed their bags in the trunk. It was 6 pm and they were about to leave for Vegas. Jughead was still inside, giving final reminders to Cheryl and Toni, who were going to be left in charge. “You will not regret bringing me along,” she added.

Archie laughed as he closed the trunk door. “Okay, I demand a twenty percent cut for whatever you win,” he said.

“Oh, of course you’re getting a cut,” she said. “But twenty’s too much. Ten percent. It’s your reward for booking three rooms,” Betty said.

“Okay, I can do with ten. You know, I totally thought Jughead was going to say no, to be honest. I thought that he would be pissed I booked one too many rooms. But Veronica just wouldn’t get off my back about it,” Archie told her. “So I booked them anyway.”

“I appreciate the effort.”

He nodded. “It paid off, though. Jughead must like you a lot.”

Betty tried to ignore how ‘Jughead must like you a lot’ made her chest warm a little bit. She only smiled, just as Jughead arrived at the garage. “Ready?” he said.

They all got into the car – Jughead in the driver’s seat, Archie beside him, and Betty in the passenger’s. “Do you have to bring the rabbit?” Jughead asked Betty when he saw that Jonesy was in the backseat beside her.

“He has a name,” Betty said to him, narrowing her eyes.

“Yeah, Jughead. He’s your relative,” Archie added with a laugh.

Jughead didn’t reply, instead turning on the engine and pulling out of their parking spot.

Archie turned on the radio, and upon hearing the song playing, he nodded to the beat. “Veronica loves this song,” he announced, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

“So – have you guys been to Vegas before?” Betty asked them, placing her hands on both seats in front of her and leaning forward like a child butting into parents’ conversations.

“Of course. A lot of our clients are from Vegas,” Archie answered. “Jughead hates Vegas, though.”

Betty looked at Jughead. “Why? Are you bad at gambling? Can’t bluff? Doesn’t seem like it, considering you’ve mastered the art of poker face,” she joked.

“It’s noisy and annoying,” he said simply. Of course he thought of Vegas that way.

“When Jughead’s on an assignment, he doesn’t tolerate jokes or anything like that,” Archie explained. “And every time we go to Vegas, it’s for an assignment.”

“Booooo, Jughead. We’ll see about that. I made you laugh this morning,” Betty said. “You’ll laugh at least ten times with me around.”

“Okay, sure,” Jughead told her, eyes on the road.

“I’ve never been to Vegas. But according to the movies, people always get married there after a night of drinking,” Betty mused.

“That’s actually very true,” Archie stated. “I know a number of people.”

“We’re not drinking,” Jughead said seriously. “Gambling, sure, waste your money – but no drinking. In case anything happens, we can’t afford to have anyone drunk.”

Betty nodded. “Got it. So have you guys been to the Four Seasons before? Have you gambled there?”

“Yes. But there’s no casino in Four Seasons itself,” Archie replied. “But Mandalay Bay is right below it – and that’s where all the fun is.”

“A hotel on top of another? So it’s the perfect location,” Betty said. It was above all the interesting night-life, making it secluded and VIP in a way. “No wonder Damian’s been staying there. How attractive even is he? Do you have a picture?”

“No picture, but he’s very good-looking. He should be a model,” Archie told her. Based on yesterday, Archie seemed to respect Damian to a degree.

“You won’t be meeting him,” Jughead reminded her.

“Fine. Let’s not talk about what I’ll be missing,” she said. Betty had no intention of meeting Damian, anyway. “How about a stop? Where are we having dinner?”

“It’s a surprise,” Archie said.

A surprise sounded fun. She leaned back into her seat as a new song came on.

“I haven’t left LA in years,” she said to herself, pensive.

She looked out the window and saw the LA traffic scene greet her for the millionth time. She knew that it was just three days and that they’d still be in America, but she felt as though she was moving forward from something.

Betty absentmindedly petted Jonesy, enjoying the quiet for the first time in a while. She was restless.

Archie fell asleep and was mildly snoring within the first hour, just as the sky was getting darker. His best friend was like that whenever he was left alone to his thoughts and it got too quiet. Jughead lowered the radio when they stopped in heavy traffic.

He looked at the rearview mirror. Betty was awake, too, stroking Jonesy’s head and looking out the window. She seemed to notice, because she turned her gaze to him, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

“Thanks for letting me tag along,” she said quietly, so as not to wake Archie.

He nodded, facing the road again when the car moved once more. “How could I say no?” he said jokingly, immediately regretting it. Why would he say that to her? He panicked internally. He probably sounded ridiculous, trying to be amusing or whatever he was doing. Definitely not flirting. No, he was _not_ flirting.

But when Jughead turned his head slightly to look at her, Betty didn’t seem to mind his words. She even laughed lightly to herself, looking out the window again to see the freeway. When she laughed, no matter how softly, she threw her head back in a way that made even the stupidest joke seem hilarious. As the setting sun hit her face, illuminating her green eyes and soft hair, with the soft hum of an acoustic song playing in the background, he tried to ignore the fact that she was beautiful. But he simply couldn’t.

He faced the road one more time.

Jughead pulled into a his favorite diner an hour later, waking Archie up.

“Wow. A diner? This is the roadtrip experience,” Betty said excitedly. It was the longest she had stayed quiet.

“We’re here already?” Archie said, yawning.

“I’m starving,” Betty announced, unbuckling her seatbelt.

Archie turned around to regard Betty. “We eat here every time. Jughead considers it the only wonder of the world.”

“Oh, I love it already, then,” Betty said, getting out of the car.

“We have to get takeout for Veronica when we go back or she’ll murder us in our sleep,” Archie told them when they entered. It was the second time he mentioned her randomly already.

The diner was the same as it was a few months ago: practically empty, with bright neon lights in warm colors and red booths that had mini jukeboxes on them. _Put Your Head On My Shoulder_ was playing.

“I love this song,” Betty said, taking a seat in front of Archie and Jughead.

Jughead liked it, too. A waiter appeared before them and gave them menus.

“What do you recommend?” Betty asked them, picking one up and reading it carefully. Her whole face was lit up by the neon lights of the diner, dancing on her skin.

“The burger,” Jughead replied, just as Archie said, “Chicken and waffles.”

Betty nodded, closing the menu with a smile. “In the Serpents we trust. I’ll take both, then.”

There was no surprise in Betty ordering two meals. After their food arrived, Jughead looked at Betty expectantly. He was sure Betty would love the food, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit nervous. How strange, he thought, that he was so nervous about her eating at his favorite restaurant. It wasn’t like they were on a date or anything.

She happily took the burger with both hands, eyeing it steadily. “This looks so good,” she said, taking a big bite out of it and closing her eyes as she chewed. “Mmmm. Okay, you’ve convinced me. It’s perfect.”

Jughead smiled. She finished everything she ordered and still had room for a slice of cherry pie.

“Oh my god, it’s the iconic _Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas_ sign,” Betty said excitedly. It was Archie who was driving now, so Jughead turned around to see her joyful expression. He went to Vegas a lot, but there was something about the amazement on Betty’s face that made him feel like he was here for the first time.

“Can we go shopping first? Before they close. I don’t have Vegas-worthy attire,” she said.

Jughead considered it. He supposed a detour wouldn’t be too bad, even if the idea of clothes shopping was something of a nightmare. But if Betty wanted to… then they had time.

“Okay, then. We can stop at the Showcase Mall,” Jughead said.

Archie nodded. “Showcase Mall, it is. I’ve been wanting to buy some new clothes, too. And maybe you can wear something that isn’t black, gray, or white for once, Jughead.”

He glared at his best friend, just as they passed more buildings and stopped at the mall, entering the parking area. “What time does this mall close?” Betty asked.

“Midnight,” Jughead answered.

“Perfect. It’s only 10 – I have all the time in the world.”

Betty sure shopped as though she had all the time in the world. So did Archie, because an hour later, he was nowhere to be found.

Jughead trailed behind Betty, holding her basket of clothes for her. He looked somewhere between miserable and spaced out, and was not saying much as she looked through dresses and shirts in the store. He remained attentive, though, whenever she asked him a question.

“This skater skirt is _so_ cute,” she gushed at a pink skirt, placing it in the basket he held. “What do you think of this?” Betty said, pulling out a yellow dress that had flowers. “Or will I look too Californian? Or do you think it’s better if I get a different skirt cut? Maybe a trumpet? Not a fan of the tulip cut, if I’m being honest.”

Jughead, judging from the expression on his face, did not seem to understand what she was talking about. Every time she asked him about his preference, he either panic-answered or didn’t say anything at all, which she found funny.

Betty smiled at him and returned it. “You’re right, the tulip cut does _not_ suit me at all,” she said, picking out two more dresses and heading for the dressing room for the third time. Jughead followed her and stayed outside.

She first tried on a light blue shirt dress and wondered if it was a good idea or not. She stepped out of the room and called for Jughead, who turned around to look at her. “Is it okay?” she asked him, holding up the skirt.

Jughead blinked a few times before answering. “It’s good, yeah,” he said, sounding unsure of himself. Betty smiled and went back inside to try on the another one. It was a little black dress, that showed her figure and a lot of skin, so she decided it would be inappropriate to ask Jughead for his opinion on it. She was still going to buy both dresses, though.

After shopping for clothing, they went to the shoe section, where Betty would not stop smiling. Her eyes widened when she saw a certain pair of heels on one shelf. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed. She practically ran towards them, picking up a pair of pink platform heels.

“Elle Woods,” she whispered, admiring the glossy exterior.

“Betty Cooper?” someone said behind her.

Betty turned around, almost dropping the heels. Behind her stood – of all people – Jen Dawson. Her coworker. From the call-center agency. She was one of her superiors, with platinum hair and heavy mascara, and a constant, condescending tone of speech.

Betty froze, unsure of what to say.

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” Jen asked. Jen was one of the older girls at the office, meaning she had a habit of looking down on Betty like she was stupid. Betty didn’t like her much.

Betty grimaced. “Um…”

“I’m on leave for my wedding, remember?” Jen continued, “But Lou told me that you haven’t been coming to work this whole week. We were so worried about you! What are you _doing_ here? Not following me, I hope?”

Betty doubted anyone missed her. They were probably gossiping about her disappearance already.

“Um…” she began, shooting her eyes at Jughead, who was looking at them puzzled. “I’m here with… my boyfriend, Ju-James. James! Come here!” Betty replied, returning the heels and looking at Jughead. He looked at her, lost, so she approached him and held his shoulder.

“Play along,” she whispered to him. She pulled him over to Jen, who looked even more confused than he did. Betty had to come up with an excuse. Fast.

“This is my boyfriend, James. James meet Jen – my former coworker,” Betty said, putting on a fake smile.

“Hey,” Jughead said nervously, nodding.

Jen ignored him and furrowed her brows at Betty. “Former? You quit?”

“I mean – technically, no. I just left LA,” Betty replied, weaving the lie as she said it. “It was such an impulse decision, really. It didn’t even cross my mind to worry about work, to be honest.”

She shook her head. “I still don’t understand why you would just leave LA like that.”

Betty came up with the lie as she rolled along. “James isn’t really my boyfriend,” Betty said. “He’s my… fiancé. We eloped.”

Jen shook her head again. “What – oh my god. You just… up and left your job?”

Betty almost forgot how insufferable Jen was. “ _Part-time_ job,” Betty corrected. “It’s no big deal. The things we do for love, am I right?” she added with a laugh.

“I don’t understand why you had to quit, though,” Jen said, still not satisfied. “Are you moving out of LA? I mean… no offense meant, but how are you going to pay for your life moving forward?”

Betty almost rolled her eyes. Jen was way too nosy for her own good and Betty felt defensive for the lie she had come up with.

“James never has to worry about money because he’s rich. And we’re moving to France after we travel all of Europe, so I don’t need my job here,” Betty replied sharply. She probably sounded snotty, but the hell with it. It wasn’t like she was going to see her coworkers ever again.

Jen was in disbelief, and she caught the irritation in Betty’s tone. She looked at Jughead and examined his t-shirt and jeans judgmentally. He definitely didn’t _look_ rich.

“Rich people know how to dress down,” Betty explained, eyeing Jen’s fancy outfit – a gold pantsuit and hoop earrings. Killing two birds with one stone.

Jen shot her an almost dirty look, but she saved face by feigning a smile. “Seriously? Europe?” Jen said.

Jughead nodded, playing along with confidence now. Finally, he was being a helpful actor. “Yeah, Europe,” he answered. “The things we do for love,” he said, echoing Betty’s words in a joking way only Betty would understand. It was so unlike him but still convincing, and Betty had to remind herself for a moment that he was pretending.

Then to Betty’s surprise, he put his over her shoulder protectively. Betty couldn’t help but smile, wrapping an arm around his torso too.

Jen nodded slowly. “Well… it’s nice seeing you again, Betty,” Jen told them, a half-scowl on her face. “I should probably get going. Bob and I are staying at Mandalay Bay. It’s a wonderful hotel.”

A final brag. Betty narrowed her eyes at her. “Cool! We might see you, since we’re staying at the Four Seasons. It’s the hotel on top of it,” Betty said confidently. She made sure to emphasize the words _on top of it._

Jen gave her a final fake smile and turned on her heel without another word.

“Oh my god, she’s so mad,” Betty said with a giggle when Jen was out of earshot.

“You went to work with her?” he said, tone shocked at the presence of Betty’s coworker. He couldn’t seem to believe she worked with someone so… obnoxious.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

She realized they still had their arms around each other, but Betty didn’t let go. _Just for a little longer,_ she said to herself. She silently prayed Jughead didn’t realize that they were still holding each other, because she liked the feeling of his arm around her.

Jughead was fully aware of the fact that he still had his arm swung over her shoulder and that Betty had her hand on his side. He knew it was silly, but he didn’t let go. He didn’t want to.

Just then, Archie appeared in front of them, snapping them back to reality. Their eyes widened and they dropped their arms, stepping away from each other. Jughead immediately felt the absence of her touch.

Archie gave them a weird look. “Why…?”

“I can explain,” Jughead began quickly.

“My former coworker showed up – and well, I had to come up with some excuse. So I said he was my fiancé and that we eloped,” Betty replied abruptly. “I know, what a weird excuse. But it was all I could come up with. Quick thinking on my end, right?”

“Hm. Okay,” Archie said, nodding without questioning further. He held up two dresses. “Veronica said she wanted a new dress. Which one?”

Jughead realized that Archie brought up Veronica quite a lot. He also realized he did not know the difference between the two dresses. They looked exactly the same to him.

“The halter one, definitely,” Betty replied. “Why are you getting her a dress?” she asked curiously. She was probably thinking the same thing he was – that Archie missed Veronica.

“Dunno. She likes dresses,” Archie answered sheepishly, walking towards the cashier, leaving Betty and Jughead alone again.

“So Archie definitely misses her,” Betty remarked. “Anyway, thank you for playing along earlier,” she told him. Then, jokingly, she said, _“The things we do for love…”_

He looked at her, amused, then regarded the pink heels she was looking at earlier. “Will you be getting those?”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, definitely.”

“If I didn’t know it was midnight, I’d think it was daytime,” Betty said when they were in the Four Seasons lobby that was bright and golden and crowded with people. It was a beautiful hotel (5-stars, so there was no surprise there). She could imagine a movie scene playing out – a heist movie or something about rich people.

“Jughead and I will check-in, just wait here,” Archie said. Betty nodded, sitting down on a couch as they headed to the counter with their things. She was enjoying their trip so far – the trip, their dinner, the shopping… and Jughead wasn’t at all bad company. Archie, too, she added as an afterthought.

As she was alone in her happy thoughts, someone sat down beside her. She turned to her left, seeing a guy, probably a few years older than her, with curly brown hair and hazel eyes. He wore a white crew neck sweater and dark jeans that suited him well. There was no denying that he was good-looking. She’d probably be attracted to him if it weren’t for the way Jughead was laughing this morning… not that she liked Jughead that way. Of course she didn’t.

The boy next to her was looking at her, too. “Hey,” he said casually. His voice was sweet and his tone was self-assured.

Betty gave him a small smile. “Hi.”

“First time in Vegas?’ he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. You?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been here many times, usually for business, but now for leisure. Are you with anyone?”

“Just a couple of friends,” she replied. “They’re checking in right now.”

“Good choice of hotel, by the way. This is my favorite city in the world,” he told her.

“Oh? That’s a bold statement to make, but I see where you’re coming from. I love it so far,” she replied.

He didn’t at all break eye contact. First impression: very confident. “Glad to hear it,” he said. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from?”

“LA,” she answered. “You?”

“LA? Did you take a flight out or…?”

“We drove here,” she answered.

He nodded. “Must have been a long trip, then. I used to live in LA – lovely city but not for me. I’m originally from New York,” he informed her.

“New York? I’ve always wanted to go there!” Betty said, eyes lighting up.

“You definitely should,” he said, nodding. “I’m Damian, by the way. Damian Torres,” he said, extending his hand.

Betty froze. Oh god. This was the guy they were here for. The former Ghoulie with unknown alliances. How many stupid coincidences did she have to get into? She nodded, shaking his hand and thinking quickly. “I’m Liz.” Liz. Short for Elizabeth. It wasn’t that big of a lie.

His phone buzzed. He checked it, reading a text. His watch looked expensive, alright. No surprise there, though. If anyone could afford to stay at this hotel…

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Liz. But I have some business to attend to,” he said regretfully after checking his phone, getting up and smiling at her. “I hope to see you around. How long will you be staying?”

“Until Sunday,” she answered.

“Damn, that’s so soon,” he told her, shaking his head sadly before turning and heading towards the elevator without saying anything more.

Betty wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was he flirting? Or was he being sociable? Overall, he seemed friendly enough, albeit a bit too breezy and too straightforward – which was an odd thing not to like, considering she was very breezy and straightforward herself.

When the elevator doors closed, the next thing she knew, Jughead and Archie were walking towards her. Jughead looked at her, not looking too happy. “Why were you talking to Damian?” he asked, mildly horrified but still calm.

“He just started talking to me,” Betty said.

But Archie was grinning. “Damn. I want his game.” They seemed to have seen the whole thing from where they were. “What did he say?”

“He was flirting with you?” Jughead asked, voice low and emotion undiscernible.

“I mean, sort of? I don’t know. He asked for my name and said he hoped to see me around,” she answered, standing up. “No big deal. He doesn’t know I’m with you guys, and I told him my name was Liz. Plus, if he left two months ago, it means he doesn’t know about me at all. I also doubt we’ll see him again.”

The two boys considered her words. It wasn’t a big deal to her, though they seemed a little concerned and conflicted.

“How many coincidences do you get yourself into?” Jughead asked in disbelief after a while.

“Too many,” Archie answered, nodding.

Betty shrugged. “Reason number one: I’m very lucky, remember? I suppose I’m on a streak where I attract interesting people,” she stated. “Can we go to our rooms now? I want to lie down.”

Jughead was not happy to learn that Damian Torres had approached Betty. When he had turned around and saw him shaking hands with her… he didn’t want to think about how it made him feel.

He wasn’t surprised, though – Damian was known for being very straightforward with people who caught his eye. And Betty wasn’t exactly someone people looked away from. She was magnetic. It was one of the few things he noticed about her, that she caught attention quickly.

But still. He couldn’t help but fear that it was more than a mere coincidence.

He looked at Betty, who was looking at herself in the mirror of the elevator and finger combing her hair. “How do you guys even afford this?” she asked. Of course she was asking questions again as if nothing happened.

“We have savings, obviously,” Archie said to her.

Betty nodded. “Money geniuses. Who are your accountants?”

“They’re not accountants, but Cheryl and Fangs are math and money geniuses,” Archie replied. Jughead agreed with that.

The elevator doors opened and they walked to their suites. Jughead handed her the keycard. “Jonesy and your things are already inside,” he said to her. The bellboy had brought them upstairs earlier. “And make sure to double-lock your door.”

She gave him an endearing smile. “Oh, it’s the first time you willingly called him Jonesy,” she said to Jughead, looking directly at him as if Archie weren’t right beside him. “Good night, boys,” she finished. And then she went in her room.

“It’s been such a long day, damn,” Archie said, opening the door to his room. Jughead decided he needed to talk to him about what had happened.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Jughead asked.

Archie frowned. “I’m not thinking at the moment, so no,” he replied.

“Damian approached Betty to… flirt, right?” he said, the sentence very strange to him. “Do you think he saw Betty talking to us?”

His best friend furrowed his brows thoughtfully. “I think it’s possible,” he said before widening his eyes. “Oh god, do you think he’s onto her? Or onto us?”

“I mean, either way our presence would be made known to him,” Jughead said. “But he doesn’t know Betty. He probably thinks she’s a Serpent.”

Jughead couldn’t help but feel this was his fault. He had allowed her to come along, after all.

Archie sighed. “So what do we do?”

“Room service tomorrow until we’re sure it’s safe,” Jughead said. “Peter texted earlier that Damian goes by the same routine: brunch at Veranda, in his suite doing business until late afternoon, and gambling until eleven. Tomorrow, both of us will try talking to Damian over brunch. Betty can’t leave her room until we get back and we know for sure that Damian doesn’t have ulterior motives,” Jughead said.

Archie nodded. “Is that all?”

“Yes, it’s all. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jughead finished, leaving Archie’s room and silently praying that everything would turn out fine tomorrow.


	6. “I learned that from a TV show.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s been a horrible week but I hope everyone’s doing alright. Here’s one of my favorite chapters!!! Enjoy <3

“Lay low? What time will I be allowed outside, then?” Betty complained. She was having breakfast in her room while the two boys prepared to go downstairs to have brunch and meet Damian.

As much as Jughead was in a bad mood that morning, he couldn’t help but feel guilty instead of annoyed at Betty’s pestering.

“Look, Betty – we didn’t expect Damian to be roaming around the Four Seasons so freely,” Archie explained, far more exasperated than Jughead was. It was as if they had turned around – with Jughead being patient and Archie frustrated. “So until we’re sure it’s safe, we can’t allow you to go around. By tonight, though, you can stay out till past midnight.”

She put down her forkful of pancake. “Gee, thanks, dad,” she said with a heavy and regretful sigh. “Now I have a curfew when I’m 20 years old and in _Vegas!”_

She looked at Jughead sadly. He couldn’t let it slide, though, even if her eyes were pleading. He wouldn’t put her in danger more than he already had. “I promise you, tonight, you can go wherever you want for as long as you want. But for now, until we know Damian is on our side, you’re staying in here. Order anything you want, just don’t leave until we say so,” Jughead said to her.

Betty nodded slowly, taking a sip of orange juice. “I guess I have nothing better to do than to accept my fate,” she said. “Watch me pull a Kevin McCallister from Home Alone 2: Lost in New York and give you guys crushing credit debt.”

Jughead nodded. “Glad you have inspiration,” he said, checking his watch and seeing it was just about the time Damian was heading for lunch. “Alright, we have to get going. We’ll see you later, Betty.”

Betty looked at him. “So soon?”

The two boys stood up. Unfortunately for Jughead, he had to leave so soon.

Damian Torres sat in a far corner of Veranda, the Italian restaurant where he had been having brunch buffet for the past days. Jughead and Archie found him right away once they entered the dining venue. He was difficult to miss, really, because he carried his head so high.

“Veronica asked me to snap a picture of him,” Archie said, bringing out his phone and sneakily getting ready to get a photo.

Jughead pushed his friend’s phone down, giving him a confused look. “What the hell, don’t do that,” he reprimanded.

“Right, sorry. Don’t know what I was thinking,” Archie told him, putting his phone back in his pocket. “So do we just approach him or what?”

“Yes. If he’s still loyal to the Ghoulies, we don’t push further or tell him our intentions for seeking him out. If he’s unsure or holds bad blood, we get him on our side somehow,” Jughead reminded him. He truly hoped it was the latter, because while this was just like every other meeting he had as Serpent leader, he couldn’t help but feel more tense than usual, knowing that Betty was upstairs and not as safe as she ought to be.

Jughead approached Damian, who looked content and well-rested, as if weeks away from the Ghoulies brought back his youth that the gang had taken from him. He wondered for a quick moment what would happen if he stepped down from the Serpents – would he be content and well-rested, too? Or would losing the gang – his distraction and atonement for the years prior to his leadership – only cause him pain? He pushed the thought out of his mind, like he always did.

A bodyguard stopped Jughead several feet away from Damian, who had a breadstick in one hand and didn’t seem to notice their arrival.

“What is it?” the bodyguard asked. He was tall and big, but Jughead wasn’t afraid.

“I’d like to speak with your boss, thank you,” Jughead answered, Archie standing behind him to his right.

It was in that moment when Damian finally realized they were there. He lifted his gaze, and upon seeing Jughead, rose to his feet with a grin. “Jones the third,” he announced, pleasant surprise all over his smug face. “And Archie Andrews. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Damian was friendly. Well, not exactly _friendly._ While he didn’t have the hatred a normal Ghoulie would have at the sight of the leader of the Serpents (Jughead) and a key member (Archie), he still tried to assert his power by the ways of charm. He invited them over to sit at his table where he sat alone and insisted they get plenty of food as he anticipated “a long chat”.

“My day got a lot more interesting,” Damian said to them, twisting pasta into his fork.

Jughead sat in front of him, with Archie to his left. Archie had twice the amount of food than Jughead – mainly because Jughead had no plans of eating so much in front of Damian, despite his empty stomach. Archie gladly dug into his clams.

“So? Why are you here?” he asked. He didn’t sound too surprised. “I’m sure you’ve heard by now – that I’m no longer associated with that dreadful gang. That pesky Peter told you, didn’t he?”

Archie, who was busy savoring clams, looked up, shocked. “You know about Peter?”

“Oh, I’ve suspected his double-identity for half a year,” Damian said, nonchalant. “But my alliance to the Ghoulies didn’t just end two months ago. It ended way before I left,” he explained.

Jughead wasn’t even surprised. Peter was a terrible informant and Damian was clever. He was not expecting Damian to be so open about his circumstances, though, especially when they haven’t been asking questions. “Can we ask why?”

“Oh, no – not yet,” Damian said, shaking his head and taking a sip of white wine. “Not until I know why you two are here with that pretty girl. Liz, is it? She’s new, I’m guessing? Is this your form of hazing? Taking newbies on missions?” he asked, amused.

So Damian _did_ know that Betty was involved with them. And that either he was lying, or he really didn’t know who Betty was.

Jughead nodded. “She is new, yes. But she’s not involved in this,” he said, hoping it would be enough for Damian to lay off the subject of Betty.

“Would you be so kind as to introduce me to her again? She’s very nice,” Damian said.

The look Jughead gave Damian was murderous. “No, I won’t do that for you,” he told him harshly.

“Okay, fine,” Damian said. “So what do you want?

“We’re here because, to be frank, we want your help. We need information. Are you still loyal to the Ghoulies?” Jughead asked.

Damian laughed heartily. “Those assholes? I never was,” he said to them. “In fact, I always sort of wished I was a part of the Serpents, and not those idiots. But then again, I don’t think I belong in the world of organized crime. I do prefer gambling my life away and watching soap operas, if I’m being honest. These last two months have been paradise.”

Everything he was saying came off as a surprise. “But you were part of the Ghoulies for years,” Archie remarked.

“I’m aware of that, yes,” Damian began. “But it was only because I was madly in love with one. Never you mind that tiny detail, though. Point is, love is bullshit. I stayed five months longer than I wanted to, all because I held out hope. But I curse the years I was in that godforsaken gang. I hate it. It makes me sick to think back. And I refuse to return to LA for it,” he continued scornfully.

 _Love?_ It was true, then, what Peter said – that Damian only joined the Ghoulies because he fell in love with one. It was oddly humanizing. Jughead looked at Damian, who looked grim and bitter talking about something so personal. Something about his words made Jughead a little more comfortable. Because Damian being so open about his emotions meant that he used them a lot.

There was also something massively important in what Damian said. _I curse the years I was in that godforsaken gang._ It was difficult to miss the rage that resonated in his voice.

It was safe to believe, then, that Damian had bad blood. Jughead decided to use that.

“Then you left?” Archie asked.

“Not so fast, Red,” Damian said, shooting him a look. “I want to know why you two are here.”

“Like Jughead said – we need your help,” Archie answered.

“With what? Because if it’s revenge, then I don’t really want a part of it. I prefer the neutrality I’m in,” he said.

“We need information on the Ghoulies’ ties to Lodge Industries,” Jughead told him directly, surprising Archie, who wasn’t expecting the straightforwardness.

He leaned his head back. “I’m surprised you know that already, considering how careful Lodge Industries has been… and information? That I have, but simply cannot give you two because while I am angry at my former gang, I left that drama long ago,” Damian said. “I don’t intend to stir up more.”

Jughead hadn’t touched his food at all, while Damian and Archie relished every bite of the expensive, tasty meal before them. He spent his moments of silence coming up with the perfect way to convince Damian. He wasn’t sure yet about what went down between him and the Ghoulies, but he was sure that Damian was angry at them. And those were the buttons he needed to push. He knew that if they had Damian at their side, he would be trustworthy.

“We want to end the Ghoulies. They wronged you and we hate them, isn’t that enough?” Jughead asked.

“No, not really. I prefer to stay out of this, thanks,” Damian answered, resigned. “Now enjoy this splendid food, Jughead. My treat.”

So it was going to take more convincing. “Do you want revenge, Damian?” Jughead asked him.

Damian considered him, eyeing Jughead’s serious expression. “Of course I do. I’m just not sure I should let my heart dictate my actions again, like I allowed so in the past. I’m at peace right now.”

Jughead leaned forward, ready to put to use his authoritativeness, his wits, and his coaxing that made him such a competent leader. He laughed, as if Damian were ridiculous. “Peace? You think distracting yourself in this city will give you peace?” Jughead asked him.

“It has, so far,” Damian said, though from his expression, he was beginning to doubt his semblance of peace.

“I highly doubt that,” Jughead said. Archie looked, overall, part frightened and part entertained as he ate clams.

“Peace comes from taking action, from proving people wrong, from pursuing vengeance. This spectacle of Vegas is fleeting,” Jughead continued. “It’s temporary bliss. I don’t know what went down between you and the Ghoulies – but if it’s personal, the luxuries of this hotel can’t do anything about it. How many more gambling nights, or brunch buffets until you realize you’re still angry?”

Damian laughed, though his confidence wasn’t what it was a few minutes ago. “I know you’re a good talker, so I don’t know why you expect me to fall for your speech, Jones.”

“I’m not expecting you to fall for my speech, Torres,” Jughead replied. “Speeches are reserved for the cowards and the ignorant. I believed that you didn’t need one. I guess I misjudged you.”

Damian scowled, dropping his fork. “Are you calling me an ignorant coward?’

“Not at all, because I still believe you don’t need this speech. You only need a minute to think,” Jughead said, smug and maintaining the confidence he had since earlier. Damian had started with upper hand, but it was now with Jughead. He was always good at convincing people, even those like Damian Torres – who, while intelligent, succumbed to the feelings of the heart like most people.

Jughead liked to believe he was not like most people. He liked to believe that he understood most people so well because he was apart from them, not a part _of_ them. His levelheaded rationality was the way he always thought and acted, and he was perfectly content that way. It was why he found his overall unease around Betty so peculiar, because it was so unlike him to be carried away by his emotions.

But he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Betty. He pushed her out of his mind and looked at Damian expectantly, who was considering Jughead’s offer carefully. Archie was smiling, partly because he seemed delighted at having clams, but mostly because he knew that Jughead had convinced Damian.

“Okay, you make very good points,” Damian mused. “After all, I just have to provide you information. I assume your lot will do the dirty work?”

“Rest assured,” Jughead responded. “You won’t have to lift a finger.”

Damian nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I know.”

Success. “Six months ago, the Ghoulies were approached by a man named Nick St. Clair,” Damian started. “He said he was under Lodge Industries’ employment, and that he had a special offer for us.”

Nicholas St. Clair – the man who attacked Betty and was in her house, trying to steal her laptop.

“I immediately didn’t want us to get involved. Lodge Industries was a respected corporation before Hiram Lodge was imprisoned – and while they ran into illegal activity, they weren’t to be trusted. Or trifled with. We were obviously a pawn in their personal vendetta. And I didn’t trust our gang to handle their demands,” Damian explained.

“Personal vendetta?” Archie asked.

But it was obvious. Jughead already knew why. “Because of your beloved Veronica, obviously,” Damian said. “While Hiram Lodge never talked to us directly – always talking through his lapdog Nick and referred to as ‘boss’ – we know his reasons: he wants his daughter back. And by doing so, he has to destroy the Serpents. Her found family.”

Jughead saw Archie clench his fists from the corner of his eye. “Doesn’t he understand that Veronica doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore? Shouldn’t he be glad he got out of prison so soon? Why can’t he leave us alone?” Archie said fiercely.

“Calm down, Red,” Damian said. “Point is, our gang agreed to work for Lodge Industries and do their bidding. We began having less transactions with our other clients, which I hated. We couldn’t rely on Lodge Industries’ money forever.”

Jughead wasn’t surprised that the Ghoulies didn’t listen to sense. He was sure that Nick waved his money in their faces and they agreed enthusiastically.

“Lodge Industries hired some hacker to gather dirt on one of your biggest clients – Delilah Grande,” he continued. “Which the hacker was able to get, though you Serpents are good at covering your tracks, so it isn’t enough to implicate your gang.”

“Of course we know how to stay hidden,” Archie said. Thanks to Jughead’s leadership and his intelligent friends, their transactions were untraceable.

“Right, of course. They’ve been planning ever since – trying to trace your connections, your former members to give testimonies, but we found nothing and nobody would budge. Not even your members who are in jail,” Damian said.

He was, of course, referring to the dozens of Serpents who were imprisoned years ago. Jughead pushed those memories out of his head before they began spinning in his head once more.

“I ultimately grew tired of our group’s shortcomings. Nobody listened to me from the beginning. We needed competent members, not impulsive idiots who didn’t know a thing about strategy. We needed to cut ties with Lodge Industries before they realized we were incompetent and stabbed us in the back. I told Greg all of that,” Damian said, and Jughead could see the anger in Damian’s eyes that he held for his former leader, Greg. “I told him we simply weren’t capable and it wasn’t worth-it and we should go back to how we were before Nick St. Clair approached us. But Greg, as always, had too much pride. So I quit two months ago.”

“And before you left – what were they planning to do?” Jughead asked.

“To continue their search for dirt on your gang. I had a final suggestion, though – to strengthen their computer system. Because I said sooner or later, the Serpents would find out they were being actively watched and that the Serpents would retaliate,” Damian said. “And seeing as you two are here now, I suppose I was right.”

Jughead took a moment to take in everything he had just learned. He now knew their motives, the inner conflict, the connections. So that was why Betty was hired. Plenty of things were making sense – and with it, a small plan formed in his head.

“And where is Nick St. Clair based? In New York like Veronica’s father?” he asked.

“He moved out six months ago. He has a very important assignment. He’s very determined, but not very intelligent,” Damian told him. True. Only an idiot would go into Betty’s house like that alone. He didn’t even know how to hold a gun. “Actually, I got word of his current location.”

Jughead furrowed his brows. “Where is he?”

“He owns a club here in Vegas, and that’s where he’s been staying. Every Saturday night, he meets up with one of Hiram Lodge’s associates to tell him their progress,” Damian answered.

Jughead nodded. “What club?” he asked. “And how do I get in?”

He was going to that club tonight. Alone, preferably. He was going to make Archie watch over Betty and he’d figure out what their progress had been in the past two months.

Meanwhile, Betty was watching The Parent Trap on the television, eating ice cream on her bed with Jonesy beside her. She felt bad for complaining so much earlier, considering that this lazy day wasn’t so bad and she wasn’t of much help. Jughead and Archie had been gone about two hours already, and she was starting to miss Jughead’s thinking face. His thinking face consisted of him being silent for minutes at a time, face scrunched up in focus. She found it adorable.

As she tried to do a British accent like Annie had in the movie, a knock came on her door. She excitedly checked the peep hole and saw Jughead and Archie standing outside. She quickly unlocked the door and opened it.

“So how was it?” she asked them, enthusiastic.

Archie smiled, walking inside the room and sitting on Betty’s couch. “Jughead strikes again. ‘ _You don’t need this speech. You only need a minute to think’_ was my favorite bit.”

Betty was puzzled. “Favorite bit? What did he do?”

“He did what he does best – talking his way into getting what he wants,” Archie explained as Jughead went inside and closed the door behind him. “We got plenty of information, thanks to Jughead’s way with words.”

“Really? What did you learn?” Betty asked Jughead.

“We learned enough to be able to know what kind of threat we’re facing,” Jughead answered, not elaborating further. “We can trust Damian Torres not to hurt you now, Betty – so you can head to the casino or wherever it is you want.”

Joy filled her. “Oh my god! I’ll get dressed, then! Casino ready! Are you two going to do anything else?”

“Well, Jughead is going out tonight-”

“No, I’m not,” Jughead replied quickly.

“You’re not?”

“I’m not,” Jughead said.

That was wonderful news. Betty clapped her hands. “Well then. Both of you wear something that isn’t a t-shirt for once. Let’s go!” she announced, tapping Archie’s shoulder and pushing both him and Jughead out the door. “Come back here when you’ve cleaned up and casino-ready. We’ll be rich in a few hours!”

“What? So soon? But it’s noon and I just ate so much food,” Archie complained, clutching his stomach.

“Do you have food poisoning?” Betty asked.

“I think I just ate too much, too fast,” he replied.

Jughead looked at her, amused, before turning to Archie. “Yeah, Archie,” he joked, “We’ll be rich in a few hours, and Vegas waits for no one. Your digestion can wait.”

Archie seemed appalled to hear Jughead poke fun at him and make joke. Betty was laughing when she shut the door, because she knew that Jughead had it in him to be funny.

Thirty minutes later, Betty found out that Jughead cleaned up nicely. Archie, too, she supposed. But it was Jughead she had her eyes on, because he wore black trousers instead of his usual jeans and a light blue button-down under a dark blazer instead of his usual neutral-toned t-shirt, and it brought out the blue of his eyes. She examined him slowly, as if seconds turned into minutes.

His hair was also combed neatly, swept up over his head – but not in a way that made it look stiff, as there were just enough soft black waves to still make him look effortless. He looked at her almost self-consciously, because it was his first time looking like this in front of her. Though she thought he had no reason to be self-conscious, considering how good he looked. Something shifted in her chest.

But it wasn’t one-sided, because Betty cleaned up well, too.

For starters, she was in the little black dress and black heels she bought yesterday, and she was perfectly aware she was showing a lot of skin. But what the hell, she was in Vegas. She put on silver earrings and used a flat-iron to pull her hair into soft waves below her shoulders.

Neither of them said anything. Betty didn’t even smile. Jughead took in a sharp breath.

Archie seemed to be the only one who wasn’t seeing things in slow motion. He was in a sour mood because he wanted to rest after eating so much food. “Well? Are we going or what?”

Betty and Jughead still hadn’t said a word to each other. The elevator ride was deathly quiet, with Archie holding his stomach and Betty and Jughead looking at every inch of the tight space besides each other.

“Why are you two so quiet?” Archie asked, oblivious. But it seemed Betty and Jughead were oblivious, too, as to why they weren’t speaking. They were speechless. “God, those clams did something to me. I can’t move,” Archie continued, closing his eyes.

Jughead finally looked at Betty. “You look nice,” he said, voice smaller than usual. He turned away immediately.

Betty nodded, her hands growing cold. “You, too,” she replied, voice smaller than usual, too.

When they got to the floor of the Mandalay Bay Casino, Betty realized something. “Oh no, I’m only 20 years old.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jughead said.

“We’ve been here plenty of times. There never was an issue,” Archie said, now leaning on the corner of the elevator due to stomach pains. “Jughead can talk his way into anything.”

Betty nodded, trusting in the way Archie was selling Jughead’s communication skills, even if Jughead was mostly a man of a few words. She looked at him again, her chest doing the inexplicable shift once more. What was happening to her?

They got in the gaming area with no worry. Jughead talked to security in under a minute, and then they were inside. Even if it was only 1pm, the place was crowded with people playing games and winning money.

And six hours later, Betty’s initial money had tripled. She was the only one playing and having a lucky day. Jughead didn’t gamble – he watched over her quietly while Archie reluctantly followed them around, complaining about the clams he had eaten.

“Dammit,” Betty muttered after a particularly bad slot machine game. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jughead pull Archie aside. They talked to each other and Archie sighed, nodding slowly.

Betty turned around and tried to understand what they were saying. Then they both approached her.

“I need to attend to something. Stay here with Archie,” Jughead informed her.

Betty, confused, crossed her arms over her chest. “Where are you going?”

“It’s unimportant,” he said swiftly, though she didn’t believe him. He was definitely going somewhere interesting. “I’ll be back later tonight, so don’t wait for me anymore.”

“Can’t we come with you?” she asked.

Jughead shook his head. “No. Keep winning money, though,” he said dismissively, turning around and walking away. She saw right through him. He knew that if she knew where he was going, she’d demand to come along, too.

He was acting strange. Betty shot her eyes at Archie, who was still holding his stomach. “Where’s he going?” she asked him.

“Unimportant,” Archie said, voice pained. “God, I can’t stand this. I need to use the bathroom,” he said. “Those clams. I hate them.”

“Then use the bathroom,” she told him.

He narrowed his eyes, not trusting her. “And allow you to follow Jughead? No thanks,” he said.

“Okay, then enjoy vomiting in a casino,” she told him, smiling.

Archie sighed. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said, running towards the bathroom. He was far too trusting.

Betty was not going to listen to the orders. She ran after Jughead, who she saw walking outside the lobby. She stealthily followed, slowly trailing behind him – far enough so he wouldn’t see but close enough so she wouldn’t get lost. He went outside the hotel, and began walking down the street that was getting darker from the sunset.

She’d make her presence known when they were too far to go back already. After walking for about twenty minutes, making many turns into alleyways to god-knows-where, her feet were tiring from the heels. Betty moved closer to him and held his elbow, shocking him.

He ripped his arm from her grasp before realizing it was her. “Betty? Why are you here?” he asked, horrified.

“Archie needed to use the bathroom,” she told him, smiling.

“What? I specifically told you to stay-” His phone buzzed. “ _I can’t find Betty,”_ Jughead read aloud. “Seriously? You left Archie when he went to the bathroom?”

He shot Betty a dirty look before typing in a text.

“Sorry, but you were being so secretive,” she replied, still taking all of it lightly. “I wanted to know where you were going.”

But telling from the look on his face, a sorry wouldn’t cut it. He was genuinely upset. For a while, he didn’t say anything, he only sighed heavily.

Betty felt bad and crossed her arms over her chest as a cold breeze swept through her. “I’m really sorry.”

“You’re cold?” he asked suddenly as if he wasn’t mad.

A little, but it was hardly relevant. She shrugged. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

He took off his blazer and put it over her shoulder gently, though his expression was still irritated. “I’d walk you back, but we’re too far now,” he grumbled. How odd, that he was angry at her but still making sure she was warm.

“I’m sorry,” she said for the third time.

He sighed. “Okay, apology accepted,” he said simply, though he still didn’t look happy. “You can come, then. But don’t pull anything like this again.”

She smiled. “Yay! Promise, I won’t do this again. And I’m sticking with you. If I do something stupid, you’ll be perfectly aware,” she said, clapping her hands. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“To spy on Nick St. Clair,” Jughead replied.

Betty’s eyes widened. “Oh my god. The man with the gun? He’s here?”

He nodded, beginning to walk. Betty put on the blazer as she followed him, feeling both thrilled and nervous to see Nick once more.

They arrived at a club called _Saint Clair._ No surprise, since it was owned by Nick’s family. The club was large and already filled with people – with moving lights, blaring music, and dancing people. Jughead seemed to hate it.

“What time is his meeting?” she shouted when they entered, making their way through the dance floor.

They were a can of sardines, with sweaty people bumping into them. “I don’t know, which is why we had to come early,” he replied, shouting back.

“Can we go somewhere else? It’s so noisy!” she yelled back.

He nodded, just as a bunch of people moved in between them, and Betty couldn’t find Jughead anymore.

“JUGHEAD!” she shouted, just as she felt someone grab her hand. Sure enough, it was him.

“Don’t let go,” she heard him say, and he pulled her out of the crowd of people and into an area where people sat and got drinks. Betty wiped the sweat on her forehead when they finally had room to breathe.

“Oh, thank god,” she said. He was still holding her hand. “Where do you think Nick is?” she asked.

“The VIP section,” he replied, pointing upstairs, where only a few people were.

“How will we get there?” she asked.

Jughead brought out a card that said VIP in fancy lettering. “This came from Damian,” he explained. “It’s enough to get us in. But we have to make sure we don’t get caught. If Nick sees us, we’re dead.”

Betty nodded. “Got it, ninja mode on.”

They made their way to a staircase that had a guard standing in front of him. “VIP only,” he told them.

Jughead showed him his pass, and the guard unhooked the velvet rope on a stanchion and let them inside. “Enjoy _Saint Clair,”_ the guard said. Jughead nodded, still not letting go of Betty’s hand and bringing her upstairs.

He looked around the area stealthily, and when he spotted Nick, who was in the far corner with a bodyguard next to him, he turned his attention to Betty. He looked as he had a few days ago – a scowl on his face and dark curly hair. “Found him,” he whispered. “We’ll sit a table away.”

She nodded as he led her to a table. They sat down a table away, back facing away from Nick, where it would hopefully be enough to hear whatever he was going to say. Jughead finally let go of her hand when they sat down, much to Betty’s disappointment.

Jughead ordered a few drinks so they wouldn’t look suspicious, though when they arrived he didn’t drink any. Betty took a sip of her cocktail and put it down, remembering that she shouldn’t get tipsy while they were spying on someone.

“You know me so well. If you had told me earlier that you were coming to a club to see Nick St. Clair, I’d never shut up about it,” she said quietly to him.

He looked at her, and surprisingly there was a small smile on his face. “I guess there’s no stopping you, then.”

She was glad he wasn’t so annoyed anymore. She looked at his face and realized that he didn’t talk much but said everything that needed to be said. And yet, she didn’t know much about him or his own feelings. All she knew was what he let on and what his friends knew, but she couldn’t help but feel there was a barrier between him and the world. It wasn’t just his room where he didn’t allow people inside, she figured. She wanted to know more, to see him let his guard down.

Just as she was about to ask him a question, someone passed by their table and sat across Nick St. Clair.

“Oh my god,” she whispered.

Jughead turned his head slightly. “I can’t see him,” he replied.

Betty brought out something from her purse – her compact. She learned it from a TV show a long time ago, where people who spied on others used the mirror to see what was going on behind them.

“Man, Caucasian, late 40s,” Betty told him, closing her compact. “I learned that from a TV show.”

Jughead looked at her, impressed. Behind them, the two men started talking, though Betty and Jughead couldn’t make out most of it. But as they talked, Nick’s voice got slightly louder. “… I wasn’t able to acquire the laptop, as I’m sure your assistant told you,” she heard Nick say.

“And whose fault is that?” a rough, irritated voice responded.

“Betty Cooper has protection,” Nick said. “There was a guy with her – armed. I don’t know who’s protecting her, but-”

“This is America, Nick. Everyone has a gun,” the man replied.

“Oh my god, they’re talking about me” Betty whispered.

“No – it didn’t look that way. The man was very composed. He knew how to handle the situation,” Nick insisted.

“Unlike you, Nick. You came alone, couldn’t handle yourself even if you were armed, and you didn’t take the laptop,” the man said, annoyed. “So you’re weaker than Betty Cooper’s armed boyfriend.”

“Look, dad – it was a mistake. But it won’t happen again.”

Betty’s eyes widened. _Dad?_ She looked at Jughead, who was listening, too.

“Of course it won’t,” Nick’s dad said, annoyed. “Because by now, Betty Cooper is probably out of the country and you don’t get a second chance.”

“Unless she’s hiding here,” Nick said. For a second Betty felt her heart stop, but Nick continued. “Which I believe to be true. She could still be in America. And whether she’s in California or another state, we’ll find her. We’ll make sure she doesn’t turn us in.”

“That girl is a real threat. She knows too much,” the man told him. “Your Ghoulies aren’t doing so well, either. I expect action to be taken immediately. Don’t be content with your progress.”

“I know. The Ghoulies are ready to take action now,” Nick informed him. “By next week, we’ll have something better to tell you. What we have planned is good.”

 _Take action? Something better?_ What did he mean by that?

“It better be,” his father said bitterly, standing up. “Or we’re dead. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

His father left as quick as he came, moving past Betty and Jughead’s table.

“Let’s go.” They left the club cautiously, making sure not to show their faces to Nick, who would recognize them instantly. After paying their tab and leaving the club, they were finally back outside in the street.

They were quiet for about ten minutes when Betty suddenly began talking (as she always did). The sky was already dark and the street was just a series of lights coming from buildings and cars, with people all dressed up everywhere. “So Archie said you have a way with words. But you don’t talk much,” she told him, topic of conversation far-off from the events inside _Saint Clair_. “Does that mean you’re a writer or something?”

Jughead froze. “What?” How could she have known that? Barely anyone knew he wrote. Or used to write, anyway. The question made his head spin, and Jughead forgot where he was for a moment.

“I don’t know, just a guess,” she said, laughing lightly.

He shook his head, unsure of what to say.

“Okay, never mind. But I started thinking earlier. You never talk about yourself,” she told him quickly. “People aren’t allowed in your room – which I get, though I do wonder what’s inside sometimes – but you still never say anything about yourself unwarranted. And all I do is tell stories and ramble about my life. So maybe it’s your turn?” she suggested.

When he didn’t reply, she continued talking. “Okay, I get it. Where to start, am I right? So here goes. Semi-personal question: who are you outside the Serpents?”

It was a very personal question. At least to him. And normally he’d shut it down – the same way he shut the topic down when Toni brought it up the other day, and the same way he shut the topic down every time it got brought up – but this time, for a reason, he didn’t know, he answered.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “My life has been the Serpents for the longest time.” He looked at Betty, who was still wearing his blazer and had the wind blowing in her hair.

“Oh,” she told him. “Do you like it that way?”

He thought for a moment. Did he? He wasn’t sure. “I’m perfectly content that way,” was all he said.

Betty nodded, not looking at him just yet. “But do you like it that way?”

When he didn’t answer, she spoke again. “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer,” she said.

He didn’t like the life he was living – working hard for a gang he never wanted a part of, anyway. But he wasn’t going to tell that to her. Not yet, anyway.

“So why do you hate Vegas so much?” she asked, shifting topics.

There was a weird feeling inside him whenever Betty talked about things unrelated to the Serpents – when she was genuinely curious about him.

“It’s just… loud,” he answered.

“I think it deserves some credit, though, doesn’t it?” she said thoughtfully. “I mean, it’s a vibrant city. People making hasty decisions and living life to the fullest. Gambling money, getting married, drinking the night away… they could very well be making the biggest mistakes of their lives. But the thrill is everything, so they do it anyway,” she mused, eyes to the sky.

He hadn’t thought of it that way. For a minute, he liked Las Vegas, even if he normally hated it.

“But I get it, it _is_ loud,” she added with a soft laugh escaping her as she turned to look at him. “Maybe you’ll learn to enjoy the noise, though.”

Jughead, upon seeing her gaze, suddenly stopped walking and he didn’t know why. She stopped, too, furrowing her eyebrows at him, confused, her green eyes curious. He was taken back to the first time he met her in his car, up until when he saw her in her black dress earlier today – two of the times she had rendered him speechless.

She was only a few inches away from him, her face bright against the dark of the evening. Jughead felt an overwhelming urge to kiss Betty in that instant, but he knew better and did not. Because for the first time, Jughead had an intense emotion magnifying in his chest, head, everywhere. It was so unfamiliar that it terrified him, for it occurred to him that he really liked this girl that he had only known for less than a week.

He liked her sweet yet confidence voice, her quick-wittedness, her unwavering enthusiasm for life, and yes, even her tendency to do reckless things like jumping into random cars and grabbing weapons pointed at her. He liked the way her hand felt in his, the way she always looked at him so fixatedly, and the way her mind worked. She made him feel different in the past few days, in a way he couldn’t place until that very second. But now, he knew. He realized that the extent to which he liked Betty was something serious.

“What?” Betty asked, clueless. She brought him out of his thoughts.

He shook his head quickly, facing front again. “Nothing. I got lost for a second,” he told her. But he wasn’t lost. It was clear as day: that something inside him had changed, fundamentally and forever.


	7. "You're the opposite of bad luck."

“Archie!” Betty called out, knocking one more time on his door. She and Jughead had just arrived at the hotel, and they wanted to check in on Archie’s bad stomach. Not to mention, she wasn’t sure she was ready to say good night to Jughead yet. She’d had the most eventful day.

“Go away, traitor,” they heard Archie’s voice say grumpily.

Betty frowned. “Oh no.”

“He’ll get over it,” Jughead told her, ringing his doorbell as opposed to Betty’s loud knocking. “Archie, open up.”

“Will he get over it?” Betty asked him, worried she just ruined a friendship for her recklessness.

“Archie can’t hold a grudge to save his life,” Jughead explained, taking out the spare keycard in his pocket. “I have his spare.”

When they entered, they couldn’t find Archie anywhere, so they barged into the bathroom. They found him sitting on the floor, head bent over the toilet. He was still in his casino attire, except his shirt and pants were crumpled. He looked miserable. “Oh no, you poor thing,” Betty said, crouching beside him.

“Thanks for respecting my privacy,” he muttered.

“I thought you just ate too much too fast? Why do you still look sick?” she asked.

“I think it’s more than that,” Archie replied, closing his eyes.

Jughead sighed. “I’ll get you water,” he said as he left.

“I’m sorry for bolting earlier,” Betty said to him apologetically. She had taken advantage of how unwell he was feeling.

Archie gave her the side-eye before nodding. “Whatever,” he said, still upset but not dwelling on it. “Jughead didn’t get mad at you?”

She shook her head. “He was irritated but didn’t stay mad. You know him – he’s not as stubborn as he lets on.”

He grimaced. “He’s not?”

She grimaced back. “You think he’s stubborn?”

Jughead, to her, was the furthest thing from stubborn. If anything, he only acted as if he was. But really, he was one of the most considerate people she knew. She saw it in the way he sensibly deliberated his words and actions. That wasn’t stubbornness, that was carefulness.

“Are we talking about the same Jughead?” Archie asked, laughing lightly. “Whatever, I guess. How was it? Did you find Nick?”

Betty nodded. “Yup. He talked to his dad,” Betty told him. “I’m sure Jughead will fill you in – but it was very odd.”

Before Archie could ask why, Jughead arrived with a glass of water, handing it to his best friend. “You definitely have food poisoning,” Jughead told Archie. “Do you have a fever?”

“No, just an upset stomach, stomach cramps, and vomiting,” Archie told him.

All that because of some clams? “How is that possible? Isn’t this a 5-star hotel?” Betty asked. Good thing she hadn’t ordered seafood.

“It was also a buffet,” Jughead pointed out. “I’ll ask the desk to get us Pepto Bismol.”

“Or maybe we should take him to a hospital,” she suggested.

“It’s not serious unless other symptoms occur,” Jughead explained. “And I don’t want to deal with a food poisoning case unless necessary. Unless you think you need to go to the hospital, Archie?”

He shook his head. “I just want to rest.”

“Someone has to monitor him in case it gets worse,” Betty said.

Jughead nodded. “I’ll watch over him, then.”

“Alright. I suppose that’s my queue,” she announced as she stood up. She looked at Jughead, who was also looking at her. He was looking at her the same way he had looked at her outside the hotel, unreadable. He looked as if he was in another world, and yet he was looking at her.

“Good night, boys,” she announced. “Get well soon, Archie. I’ll have a better apology tomorrow.”

When she left the room and headed back to her own, she couldn’t get the image of Jughead out of her mind. There was something in the way he had looked at her – something different that she couldn’t quite place, but made her feel…something. She already missed Vegas and walking with him in the night, talking to him as if they had all the time in the world. She didn’t want to leave so soon. She hoped that Vegas wasn’t their last adventure together.

Even 30 minutes after when Betty left, Jughead still couldn’t shake the realization he had made an hour ago – that he had feelings for her. He knew he was monumentally screwed because this had never happened to him before. And yet, it felt so familiar, as if him liking Betty was always a fact of his life. He was so sure of it that he didn’t even bother doubting it. He could only pray that Betty didn’t notice.

“So what did you learn from Nick?” Archie asked, laying down on his bed after he took his medicine.

“They’re up to something,” Jughead replied, glad to have the distraction from Betty, who clouded his mind like a storm. “They have a plan that will take place within the week.”

He remembered what Nick said: _by next week, we’ll have something better to tell you._

“What could it be?” Archie wondered.

Jughead didn’t know. All he knew was that they had to be prepared.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t watch over her,” Archie said after a while.

“It’s fine. I’m sure she would’ve found another way to follow me,” Jughead replied, sitting down on his couch. It was true. If it wasn’t luring Archie to the bathroom, she’d figure out another method of following him into _Saint Clair._ That’s just how Betty was.

“She’s stubborn. When she wants something, she gets it,” Archie remarked. “You weren’t mad?” he asked as if he couldn’t believe Jughead being so forgiving for anybody.

Jughead shrugged. Normally he’d be angry at someone who deliberately disobeyed his orders, and yet he couldn’t even stay angry at Betty. He just couldn’t. Not when she looked so hopeful and excited. It was impossible.

“You’re very different around her,” Archie told him matter-of-factly.

“Different?” he asked. Was he being obvious?

“Like how you were in high school,” he explained.

“What?”

 _Like how he was in high school?_ But that was so long ago. He wasn’t that person anymore.

“It’s not a bad thing, you know,” Archie told him with a yawn.

Jughead tried to understand what his best friend meant. Who even was he in high school? What was Archie talking about? In high school, Jughead was a head full of dreams who made impulsive decisions. He was the type to say too much and feel too much. It seemed like a bad thing to him. A very, very bad thing. High school Jughead wasn’t Serpent leader Jughead.

“What do you mean, specifically, by ‘how I was in high school’?” Jughead asked.

But he heard Archie snore. Oh, well. He’d ask him another time.

He thought, again, about how much he liked Betty. Was it a bad thing? It probably was. And yet, it did not feel that way when the moment occurred to him – with Betty walking by his side in the busy streets of Las Vegas. It felt like the only right thing that had happened in a while, and he knew at that moment it would last for a while.

Archie was feeling much better the following day. He woke up early and ate heaps of pancakes for breakfast, saying he was ready to drive back to LA Baby-Driver-Style.

As they were in the elevator on their way to check out, Betty standing beside Jughead, she sighed. “I feel like we’re leaving so soon,” she said sadly. “We should come back within the summer.”

She’d been talking about missing Vegas all morning. It took her fifteen minutes to say goodbye to her suite – which included a lot of her embracing a bathrobe and lying down on the bed instead of packing her things. Jughead had waited for her patiently, standing next to his already-packed luggage as he watched her say her dramatic farewell.

“That will never happen unless absolutely necessary. Jughead hates it here,” Archie told her.

“Not when I’m around. Right, Jug?” Betty teased, looking at him and nudging him playfully.

She was right. He was sure that if halfway through their trip, Betty asked him to go back, he’d turn the car around and go back to Vegas just so he could see her face as she smiled at the _Welcome to the Fabulous Las Vegas Sign_ one more time _._ Dear god, what was happening to him.

He obviously wasn’t going to tell her that. He only smiled. He realized that all Betty ever did was make him worry or smile. There was no in-between.

“The adorable smile says it all,” she said, eyes lit up. Jughead fought hard to rationalize how her calling his smile ‘adorable’ made his head spin, but it was in vain. “Top three moments in our trip!” she announced, making Jughead jump a little. “You go first, Archie. What was your number three?” she asked as the elevator doors open and they headed for the desk.

Archie thought for a moment. “Hm. The clams at the Veranda,” he said.

“Seriously? You got food poisoning,” Betty told him, flinching.

He only grinned. “No regrets.”

“Alright, then. My number three was the room service. I mean – that hotel room made me feel like a princess. I felt like I was part of the one percent,” Betty said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as if she were reminiscing everything. Jughead couldn’t help but smile again. He looked away before she opened her eyes and spoke. “And how about you, Jug? What was your number three?”

As Jughead checked out at the desk, he tried to think of his top three. “Shopping,” he answered.

Betty looked surprised. “Seriously? You looked miserable.”

“That look on your coworker’s face was priceless,” he explained simply. But more that, he liked following Betty around as she made enthusiastic comments about clothing – something he hardly ever paid attention to until that night at the Showcase Mall. It scared him a little when she asked him for his opinion on dresses – but overall, there were worse things than Betty Cooper being excited over clothes.

“Very valid point,” she told him before turning to Archie. “Now, number two.”

“The diner, definitely,” Archie said with a nod. “Can’t wait to stop by later.”

“Damn it, I forgot to add that to my top three since we weren’t technically in Vegas!” Betty exclaimed regretfully. “I did say top three in our _trip_ though, right? Not Vegas. Fair point, fair point. Alright, my number two is shopping, tied with the Americana diner experience. How about you, Jughead?”

“The diner, too, definitely,” Jughead replied once they finished checking out and headed outside for the valet to get their car. The food played a significant part, definitely. But he remembered her trying his favorite food and eating every last crumb, and that was what stuck with him. That would have been his number one, if not for yesterday’s events.

Now it was Archie was surprised. “Seriously, man? I thought the diner would be your number one.”

“Now I’m curious to hear Jug’s number one!” Betty commented. “Archie, quick, what was yours?” Betty asked.

“Jughead’s speech to Damian, definitely. I’d sell my hair to have his talking skills,” Archie told her, nodding. “You should have been there, Betty. He just went straight for it. He should be giving TED talks. Or therapy, I don’t know.”

“Wow. You’re Jug’s biggest fan,” she said, amused. It was already the third time she called him ‘Jug’ today. “My number one is definitely the game room. I mean, I was on a roll! I earned thrice my beginning money.”

Jughead smiled at her excitement for gambling, which hadn’t at all faded even after she spent six hours in the game room yesterday.

“And what’s your number one?” she asked, looking right into his eyes.

He looked away. “ _Saint Clair_ ,” he answered honestly.

“The club?” Archie asked. “You picked that asshole’s club over your favorite diner?”

It wasn’t really _the club._ It was holding Betty’s hand through the crowded dance floor. It was sitting beside her at a table while she held up her compact. It was walking her back to the hotel, her laugh echoing in his ears. But he wasn’t going to tell her that, obviously. He only said, “It was interesting.”

“Uh-huh. My number one had everything to do with you, Jughead, and yours is the one time I wasn’t with you,” Archie said, feigning hurt.

Betty laughed, throwing her head back and closing her eyes, and Jughead couldn’t help but look at how elated she was. “What can I say, I’m very impactful,” Betty said jokingly, though truth rang in her words. She was very impactful indeed.

Just then, a familiar voice spoke behind them. “And the Serpents leave on the dot, as always,” he said.

The three of them turned around and found Damian Torres looking at them. Jughead immediately stepped forward, making sure he didn’t get too close to Betty. “Damian,” Jughead regarded him. “We’ll be in touch, right?”

“Of course. I take that it went well yesterday at Nick’s club,” Damian said, nodding.

“It did,” Betty replied chirpily.

Damian looked at Betty, a wild glint in his eyes. “Glad to hear that, Liz,” he said, referring to the name Betty had introduced herself with. “How was your trip?”

“It was fun,” Betty answered, looking at Jughead with a wide smile.

Damian nodded again at both Betty and Jughead, before eyes widening with realization. “Oh, I get it,” he said. “That was why you were so defensive yesterday.”

“Defensive?!” Jughead asked, defensive.

“Defensive!” Archie exclaimed, amused.

“Defensive?” Betty repeated, confused. “Of me?”

“Of Liz,” Samian confirmed, and Jughead felt his face grow hot. He _had_ been defensive yesterday when Damian mentioned Betty. But Betty didn’t need to know that. “Are you two hooking up or something?”

Archie let out another laugh as Jughead shook his head aggressively.

“What -? No,” Jughead said quickly, shaking his head. He felt dangerously exposed, though Betty only looked entertained by Damian’s hypothesis. “We’re leaving, Damian. Thanks for seeing us off, even if we didn’t ask you to,” he added harshly.

Damian raised his arms. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave. I just wanted to see your friend Liz here one last time,” he said with a final wink in Betty’s direction. Then he gave them a final nod before being on his way. Archie sneakily caught a photograph of Damian on his phone – for Veronica, he’d said.

Betty giggled at Jughead. “Awww, defensive? Of me?” she badgered, poking him at his side.

He froze. “I just – he’s not – ” he began. “He’s exaggerating,” he mumbled.

Betty gave him a funny look before remembering something. “Oh, by the way, as a formal apology to Archie for ditching him after he vomited in the bathroom, his cut of my gambling pursuit has been raised from 10% to 20,” she announced. Jughead was immediately grateful she changed the subject.

Archie was satisfied with Betty’s apology. “You’re one hundred percent forgiven now.”

“I told you a better apology was coming,” Betty said, pleased.

The drive gave Jughead a lot of time to think. As Archie drove, he listened to Betty talk as if it were the end of the world. They were listening to a radio station where the hosts gave out love advice, and Betty didn’t hesitate to give out her opinion. Normally, he’d hate radio programs like this. They were trivial -- if people had issues with their partners or crushes, why did they have to tell some radio DJ that did _not_ have a degree in couples counseling? But Betty seemed to take every story personally.

“Seriously? It’s so obvious they like each other. Just date,” she remarked, frustrated, after hearing a story about two people who obviously cared for each other but never made a move. He watched her from the mirror. “I mean, right?!” she said, looking at Jughead expectantly.

He nodded. “I mean, I get where she’s coming from. It’s a gamble.”

“Just make a move, though. She has nothing to lose,” Betty argued, shaking her head.

They talked about two more couples, with Betty giving off her strong statements and Jughead listening to the sound of her upbeat voice. He figured that while challenging her opinions was fun, he liked hearing her talk more. Archie listened and piped in once in a while, but he mostly focused on driving and looking amused whenever Jughead talked about the people on the program.

Betty never ran out of things to say. She never ran out of things to make them laugh, too.

When they arrived at their favorite diner for late lunch, they ordered the same thing they had on Friday night, except Archie made another order for Veronica. “I’m not having shellfish again,” Archie said. “Not for another five years.”

“Jug, do me a favor and ask your cook to make shellfish for the next two weeks so Archie tortures himself,” Betty joked before taking another bite out of her burger.

“Noted,” Jughead said, nodding. His phone began to ring.

It was Toni. “Toni?” he said.

“Jughead – something’s happened,” she said on the phone, tense. “Fangs and Pea were attacked by the Ghoulies while they were heading back from their delivery.”

Blood rose to his head. “What?” he asked, stunned. _Ghoulies?_

“They’ll be fine, but they’re pretty hurt,” she explained to them. “Where are you guys?”

“Two hours away,” Jughead replied. “Where are you?”

“Hospital,” she answered.

“What happened?” Betty asked, leaning forward.

“We’ll be there. Text me updates and what exactly happened,” he told Toni, ending the call and getting up. “We have to go. Fangs and Pea were ambushed by the Ghoulies. They’re at the hospital.”

Betty and Archie looked horrified. “Oh my god,” she said, just as Archie began scrambling to pay their bill.

“How did that even happen?” Betty asked.

“I don’t know yet. But we have to go ASAP.”

So that was what Nick was talking about. _By next week, we’ll have something better to tell you._ That ‘something’ was an ambush.

The ride back was very different from Betty talking over the radio. It was tense, with her holding Jughead’s phone and reading updates to Jughead, who was driving.

Apparently, at 10 in the morning, Fangs and Sweet Pea were walking back to their parked car, when eight Ghoulies cornered them in an alleyway. They were beaten up and almost kidnapped, though they were able to fight back and get away. They drove to the hospital, bleeding and bruised. Sweet Pea had a broken leg.

“Why would they do that? We aren’t street gangs anymore,” Archie said with the shake of his head. The Serpents and the Ghoulies haven’t gotten into petty fights in years.

“If they were trying to kidnap them, and not kill them – then there must be something the Ghoulies want from us. Maybe they were going to question them, or have us do something.” Jughead told them, eyes on the road.

“Have them do what?” Betty asked.

“They have to want something. Intel, maybe,” Jughead said.

“What could they want to know?” Archie probed.

“Maybe they know we’re protecting Betty,” he suggested. “But it could be anything. They could be trying to dig up dirt on us. Or simply threaten us.”

Her eyes widened. “You think it could be because you guys are protecting me?”

“It’s unlikely but possible,” Jughead said.

“But if it is because of me – how did they find out?”

“I don’t know, but it’s only a possibility,” he reassured her.

But she didn’t seem so reassured. Betty didn’t make side comments anymore; she solemnly read aloud the texts and stared distantly. Her demeanor suddenly changed.

They arrived at the hospital at five in the afternoon and were met with Cheryl, Toni, and Veronica inside Fangs and Sweet Pea’s room. Fangs and Pea were wounded and bandaged up, looking as though they were wrestlers who had the fight of their life.

Jughead began asking questions immediately, as Betty sat down behind him and listened to the Serpents talk. She didn’t have the energy to say anything. All of a sudden, she felt her input was at best irrelevant and at worst harmful.

Archie, on the other hand, went straight to Veronica and they began talking about what happened. They clearly missed each other. Betty briefly wondered why they weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend yet, but then her mind wandered again to what was bothering her: guilt. It was eating her up.

“You okay? How was the trip?” Toni asked her, noticing she wasn’t saying much.

“Yeah, it was fun,” Betty replied softly, lacking her usual enthusiasm. She looked again at the two Serpents who were on the hospital beds – possibly because the Ghoulies knew that the Serpents were protecting her. “Are they going to be okay?”

“Oh, for sure. I’ve seen them worse,” Toni said reassuringly. _Worse?_ There was something worse than being beaten to a pulp?

Cheryl appeared in front of her. “Have some froyo,” she said, sitting down beside Betty on the couch and handing her a cup of frozen yogurt. “It’s the best in Los Angeles.”

“Thank you,” Betty said, giving her a quick smile and taking a small bite of it. While it certainly was the best froyo she’d ever tasted, she couldn’t find the appetite to take another bite. She felt awful. Every time she glanced at the two Serpents who were beaten by the Ghoulies, blame washed over her.

 _Maybe they know we’re protecting you,_ Jughead suggested earlier _._ Were people getting hurt because the Serpents were being so kind?

Jughead noticed that Betty wasn’t talking. He made a mental note that after he asked Fangs and Pea enough questions, he would talk to her because seeing her look so bothered was an unpleasant sight to bare.

“Was their leader there?” Jughead asked them. They were both lying down on their beds, Jughead looking at them both.

Fangs shook his head. “No. Just scrawny-looking Ghoulies,” he answered. “But there were eight of them.”

“Did they say anything?” he questioned.

“No, they just told us that they were taking us, but we resisted, of course,” he replied.

“Why would they do this? What do they want from us?” Sweet Pea asked. “I thought Hiram Lodge didn’t want us to know they were onto us.”

Jughead thought for a moment. “Maybe they know we know already,” he explained. “And they probably had no plans of keeping you alive after questioning you.”

“Well, thank the Lord we’re not dead,” Fangs said.

“Good thing you both made it out alive,” Jughead agreed, turning around and looking at Betty, who was seated on a couch and not eating the frozen yogurt Cheryl bought every one. Something was evidently wrong if she wasn’t eating. “Alright, I’ll be back soon. Rest up.”

He approached Betty afterward. “Betty, can we talk outside?” he asked.

She nodded, standing up. When they were out of the room, they began walking down the corridor of the hospital. She still didn’t say a word.

“Are you okay?” he asked her. It was rare for him to take the reign in a conversation when it was almost always her who asked him personal questions, but it obviously had to be him now.

“Don’t worry about me,” she told him, shaking her head as she stared forward. “I’m glad they’re okay. I mean – not _okay._ They’re obviously injured. But they’re alive, at least.”

He nodded, agreeing. “Do you want to eat? I saw a vending machine with cookies downstairs,” he suggested.

She shook her head. “Not that hungry. Thanks, though,” she told him.

He recalled how happily Betty was to be eating cookies when they were on the way back from her apartment a few days ago. Betty rejecting sweets was like Popeye rejecting spinach.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked, hoping she thought they were close enough for him to ask that question.

When she didn’t say anything, he tried again. “You can tell me, but you don’t have to,” he told her. He wasn’t good at comforting people, because he barely ever did. Their conversation felt vaguely like the one they had last night – this time, with roles reversed and in a hospital.

For a minute, he thought she was angry at him. But when she spoke, it was the opposite. Her voice was soft. “Nothing, it’s just… do you think I’m bad luck?” she asked, lacking her usual buoyancy.

“What?” he asked, puzzled. Was that why she was so down? It made no sense to him, because if anything, she was the opposite of bad luck. “There’s no such thing,” he told her.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I’ve been in denial these past few days, but the more I think about it-”

Jughead then saw two people turning into their corridor. Ghoulies. He recognized them immediately: Greg, their leader, and Samantha, another member. They were talking seriously to each other and walking slowly towards them. They didn’t see Betty or Jughead. He quickly grabbed Betty by the arm and pulled her inside the janitor’s closet to their right, shutting the door.

“What’s happening?” Betty whispered in the dark. The room was small and cramped, and he couldn’t see anything other than her eyes, blinking and confused. They had no choice but to touch each other, and their faces were only a few inches away. He could feel the heat of her body, overpowering despite the cold ventilation inside the cramped closet. He could feel her eyes boring into him.

“I saw two Ghoulies,” he murmured, trying not to focus on the fact that they had never been this close before. He swallowed. His heart was pounding and he could feel Betty’s breath fanning into his face. But he needed to concentrate on what was going on in the corridor. He looked away.

They heard footsteps outside, and then the voices of a boy and a girl talking to each other. Greg and Samantha.

“… spotted in Vegas shopping mall with Jughead Jones, remember? Security footage confirmed it. Cooper introduced him as her fiancé,” Samantha said.

Jughead froze. Jennifer? As in, Jen Dawson, Betty’s coworker? She was tied to the Ghoulies? Betty reflexively held his arm, caught off-guard, too. So they knew. They knew she was in Vegas and that the Serpents were protecting her.

“What was Jughead even doing with her?” Greg asked.

“Shopping, apparently, which already weird enough. We’re trying to gather more intel on how they met,” she replied. “Nick is furious.”

“Does Nick’s father know?”

“No, he didn’t tell him in case they aren’t able to catch her again,” she replied.

“Bad news after bad news. I go to New York for a week to talk to Hiram and this happens. Nick is going to murder us. And now, eight of us couldn’t handle two Serpents? Ridiculous,” Greg scoffed, irritated.

“They’re going to figure us out soon,” she told him. “And with Damian gone-”

“Don’t mention him,” Greg scoffed bitterly.

“Face facts, Greg. I think it’s time we…” and their voices faded as their footsteps ceased to be heard.

Betty was looking at Jughead. When they were sure they were gone, Betty began talking. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “Why are they here?”

“I guess the Ghoulies needed medical attention, too,” Jughead replied. It also seemed as though Greg wasn’t filled in on all of this information yet, since he mentioned he was in New York for a week. “You can’t be seen here in the hospital. I’ll drive you back.” He was all too aware of the way her body was pressed against his, so he tried to keep focus on the important thing, which was what they had just heard.

“Are you sure? Don’t you have to stay?” she asked, worried.

“Toni will keep me updated while I’m gone. Besides, Veronica redecorated your room, right? Don’t you want to see it?” he said. He opened the door and they stepped out.

“Alright,” she said with a nod. He could finally see her again, but she didn’t look any happier. He’d never seen her lack so much energy before. He decided to text Toni to watch out for the Ghoulies and that his next priority was making sure Betty was okay. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he told her.

So while Betty was quiet and withdrawn, Jughead was extra attentive and gentle. It wasn’t just Betty acting differently. Jughead knew that he was, too.

Betty was not in the mood to talk. That never happened before. But the reality of her situation hadn’t hit her until she saw that two people were hurt in the hospital. As Jughead drove, she thought of everything that happened that led up to this moment. It felt like a lot more than a week.

She had welcomed the prospect of being a runaway and jumping into an unknown future. But she was reckless to do so. She finally understood why Jughead made such a big deal out of Nick being in her house and her taking his gun. She’d passed it off as a cool, badass experience when it first occurred and even got irritated when Jughead refused to follow his car. But she saw his reasoning now. They were facing real danger. There was no time to be impulsive.

Jughead would not stop turning his head to look at her. She was half-worried he’d crash the car, but he was as good a driver as he always was.

He definitely knew she didn’t want to talk because he didn’t say much or turn on the radio. When they arrived at the building and passed the bar, several Serpents immediately began asking him questions, though.

“How did it happen?” “Is it serious?” “How will we retaliate?” She’d probably find it overwhelming if she were in Jughead’s position.

“Fangs and Sweet Pea are fine,” he told them steadily as he headed upstairs with Betty. “I’ll answer all of you later. For now, business as usual.”

Betty stood next to him, still quiet as they made their way to her room. _This was all her fault._ The words played over and over in her mind.

“You’re not bad luck,” he suddenly told her, as if reading her mind.

She did not believe that. She stopped in her tracks “If I hadn’t insisted on coming to Vegas, or suggested shopping on Friday night – they wouldn’t have known that you guys were protecting me. That’s why they got Sweet Pea and Fangs-”

“That’s not your fault,” he interrupted firmly. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should’ve thought it through more,” she told him.

“I allowed you to come to Vegas, too, remember? And I was the one who suggested the Showcase Mall,” he informed her. “So it’s my fault – if anyone’s to blame. But it doesn’t matter if they know, because we’ll come up with a plan.”

“But bad things keep happening. Not because of you, but because of me,” she told him. “It’s like… It’s like the Ghoulies are a step ahead of us always. I mean – one of my coworkers is connected to them? I’ve known Jen for so long. Have they always known her?” she wondered aloud.

“That’s out of your control,” he said.

“Sooner or later, Nick will probably figure out we were at his club, and we’ll be dead,” Betty said.

“No, we won’t,” he said to her, looking at her, assured. “Whether he finds out or not, we’ll come up with a plan. Our gang is smarter than the Ghoulies ever will be. We have Damian Torres on our side. We’ve taken down Veronica’s father in the past, we can do it again. So don’t worry about it.”

She considered his words. It wasn’t the Serpents she didn’t trust – it was herself. It was her presence. “I can help. Give me any task, not just hacking. I’ll do it. I’m a fast learner,” she told him, determined.

He nodded. “Yes, of course you can help. But just know that this isn’t your fault, okay?” he said, just as they continued walking in front of his room. Then he stopped walking.

She turned around, confused at his sudden halt.

“Do you want to come inside?” he blurted out, avoiding eye-contact. He was on edge.

She was even more confused. “Like – inside your room?” she asked, skeptical and tilting her head. She thought nobody was allowed inside.

“Yeah, you said you wondered what was inside yesterday,” he told her self-consciously, rubbing his hands together.

“I thought no one was allowed, though,” she said. Jughead being so awkward and accommodating was odd. Not that she was complaining. The curiosity hit her again – what _was_ inside his room?

Instead of replying, he took out his keys and opened the door, motioning for her inside. Betty slowly entered, feeling as though she was trespassing.

The room was how Archie had described: full of books. He had a large bookshelf filled with them, and more on his table. He hadn’t repainted his room another color or added more furniture besides the oak shelf and a soft black couch. The room itself didn’t seem like the Jughead who led the Serpents and carried a gun around – it looked like the room of an academic. And yet, as she looked at it, she realized it fit him perfectly.

Besides the books on his desk, there was a picture frame with a photo of a young boy – a cute, short Jughead – and a younger girl. His sister, probably. They were smiling widely arm-in-arm.

“Is this your sister?” she asked him.

Jughead glanced at the photo, expression changing for a split second. But he nodded. “Yeah.”

“What’s her name?”

“Jellybean,” he answered, sticking his hands in his pockets. “The weird names run in the family.”

Betty gave him a small smile. “Where is she?”

Jughead avoided her gaze when he answered. “She died a few years ago.”

“Oh,” she said. When she turned to look at him, she saw an intense but controlled sadness on his face. It hurt her to see him that way. She wondered how she’d died, but figured it would be inappropriate to ask. She could tell, though, that she had meant so much to him. It was the kind of sadness that looked a little like regret. “I’m sorry,” she told him softly.

He shook his head. “It’s fine,” he told her dismissively as he himself took a look at his room. “Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” he said, straightening his bedsheets, though Betty didn’t find it messy at all. It was extremely neat, albeit an abundant number of novels. If he considered this messy, her room was probably a landfill.

All of the books in his were well taken care of, except for a paperback copy of _In Cold Blood_ on his bedside table that had several creases in its spine. He probably reread it a lot. So he was into mystery. Maybe he wasn’t a writer like she’d guessed – just an avid reader.

“You can sit down,” he told her, pointing at his couch. Betty sat down on it, eyes still scanning his room.

They didn’t say anything for a while. Jughead sat on his bed, looking at her. “Not that interesting, I know,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, it’s fascinating,” she told him. She momentarily forgot about how bad she felt as she admired his quarters where no one was allowed in. “Am I the first one who’s been in here?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Betty didn’t understand why Jughead was letting her inside his room, but it made her feel special. She decided not to ask for his reason, though. The mystery of it made it more meaningful. Besides, she had all the time in the world to ask him that one day. She was going to savor this moment.

“You were right, you know,” he said to her out of nowhere. “I’m a writer.”

Betty looked at him, half-surprised because he was admitting someone. No wonder he looked so caught off-guard yesterday when she made the guess.

“I mean, I always wanted to be, at least. But I’m obviously not,” he said with an uneasy laugh. He was so nervous in the past few minutes. It was all over him. This was Jughead, she realized, with his guard down. And she was seeing it in the flesh. How lucky was she, she wondered.

“By the looks of this room, you probably should be,” she told him.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. That was so long ago,” he said, eyes sad and wistful.

Betty didn’t say anything for a while. She just leaned into the couch and continued to scan the room. Jughead felt nervous because he couldn’t remember the last time he talked about personal things on his own volition. All he knew was that he had decided to let Betty inside his room and start answering the questions he didn’t answer yesterday. There was probably something wrong with his reasoning, but it felt right to be sitting with her in the place nobody else was allowed inside. It just… fit. It was the most natural thing. Did that make him crazy?

He thought of her question yesterday. _Do you like it that way?_ She had been referring to his life, and how it had been that way for so long. Too long.

“Yesterday, you asked me if I liked my life being this way,” he suddenly said to her. “And I didn’t answer because it’s not a very good answer – it being that no, I don’t like my life this way. I may be content, but I’m not happy.”

Betty looked at him – not a look of pity, but of confusion. “You don’t have to live this way. You can do things differently,” she said as if it was so simple. But it wasn’t simple. Nothing about his life and the decisions he’d made thus far were simple.

He shook his head. “Too many people got hurt when I tried to run from this...” He tried to find the right words. “This inevitable fate of mine, of becoming the leader,” he explained.

He wasn’t going to tell her the full story – that was too heavy and too long, but he was going to tell her more than he’d ever told anybody before. “There’s no use trying to act as if I wasn’t raised for this, so even if I don’t like it, I know it’s the right thing to do.”

She frowned at him. “ _Inevitable fate_? _Raised for this_? That’s not a reason to spend the rest of your life doing something you don’t like,” she told him. Her tone wasn’t rude, just of genuine confusion. The answer was so simple to her.

He used to think that way, too. In high school. He thought he had the world at his disposal. He was ready to leave this awful part of him behind – the part of him that had a terrible father, a rotten childhood, and lived in danger. The part of him that was a Serpent by blood and nature. But that was until his sister died. That was until his father went to prison. Everything changed and he realized that the world wasn’t simple. Nothing was simple.

 _You’re very different around her. Like how you were in high school._ Archie’s words echoed in his head again.

In high school, Jughead had thought that everything was a simple decision: choosing between a life with the Serpents and a life without them. He believed that the decision was the only one he had to make, and the rest would follow.

But life, he realized later on, was never simple.

When he was with Betty, though, everything was simple. And that simplicity was this: that he liked her, and the rest followed.

Maybe that was what Archie had meant.

Jughead thought his friend was right about that part, then. But what he wasn’t sure his friend was right about, though, was whether or not it was a good or bad thing.

“It’s hard to explain,” Jughead said quickly.

He looked at her. He’d never been at such a loss for words before. But she seemed to understand. She nodded.

“I don’t know why I brought you in here and started rambling, I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. He was being ridiculous. He could never admit that he was unhappy before – not even to himself. He pretty much did the equivalent of baring his soul by telling her all that.

Betty gave him a look. “No, don’t be,” she told him sincerely. “I like listening to you.”

He let the painful memories in his head drop away for a little bit. Jughead couldn’t help but smile at her.

“And I also like it when you smile.”

He laughed lightly, unable to look away.

“ _And_ when you laugh,” she added, a smile appearing on her face. Finally, a smile. He’d missed her constant smile. “You made me feel better, Jug. So thank you.”

He was glad she was feeling better. “I mean what I said, Betty – you aren’t bad luck. Without you, we wouldn’t have even known Lodge Industries was after us. We wouldn’t have gotten through the Ghoulies’ server.” He looked at her directly. “You’re the opposite of bad luck,” he added with finality.

He couldn’t believe she’d ever thought that she was bringing misfortune. Even if his emotions were a total mess around her, and even if the events surrounding her arrival were a whirlwind of outlandish, she was good luck personified. She was intelligent and lively, bringing something good to the Serpents. And to him. Her saying she was anything but that was complete and utter bullshit to him.

“Okay, you make a good point. Thanks,” she said, her smile grew bigger, and the Betty he knew returned a bit. The glint in her eye was back. “So… Will I be allowed in here again? And will you answer my nagging questions more now? Or is this a one-time thing?” she asked, her upbeat voice back.

She was looking at him so steadily and for such a long time, which played several jokes on his pulse that sped up instantly at her prolonged gaze.

Without hesitation, he said, “You can come here any time.”

There was something about Betty that made his walls fall down – not one by one, but in a sweep. A demolition. He could only scramble to put them back up, but he figured there was no use. She was already inside and stirring.

The strangest part though was that he didn't mind. He didn't mind at all.


	8. “Surprise, bitch. I have root access to your system.”

“Usual business with our clients will continue,” Jughead said on Sunday night when everyone was gathered at the communal hall. “Despite the setback, we’re not going to slow down. Archie, I want you to be the head of intel gathering. You’ll assign the Serpents to consult with our informants and even appoint new ones. We need as much information as possible regarding the Ghoulies and their ties to Lodge Industries. Betty and Veronica, you two will find out why Greg had gone to New York to meet with Hiram Lodge last week.”

Betty nodded and watched him in awe. While everyone seemed on the verge of panic because of the Ghoulies’ violent act, he remained with a clear head and spoke with intelligence as if he was giving out usual announcements.

“Cheryl and Toni, you two will be in charge of operations since I have a task of my own: getting a ceasefire meeting with the Ghoulies,” he said to them. “Any questions?”

A ceasefire meeting with their rival gang did not seem like a good idea at face value, and everyone began murmuring at his words right away. Cheryl raised her hand. “A ceasefire meeting? What?”

Jughead nodded. “There isn’t a good way I can explain it, but I need to see them face-to-face,” he said. “There’s something I have to see.”

The answer was so ambiguous that no one bothered asking a follow-up. Everyone seemed to accept Jughead’s unusual strategy.

“Alright, if that’s all, everyone get rest, except for those in charge of the shift at the _Wyrm,”_ he finished. As the people in the room dispersed, Jughead crossed the hall to walk over to her. “Are you feeling better?” he asked her for the third time that night.

She nodded. “You came up with that so quickly,” she said to him, impressed.

“I told you we’d come up with a plan, remember?” he said, gently and comfortingly. She remembered. _We’ll come up with a plan,_ he had said. _Our gang is smarter than the Ghoulies ever will be… So don’t worry about it._ And looking at him now, his face full of determination, she believed him.

The days following Fangs and Sweet Pea’s ambush went by in a blur, as everyone got to work and the environment became hectic. Betty watched Jughead do what he claimed was his ‘inevitable fate’: _leading the Serpents._ And while he had confessed to her that he didn’t like his life the way it was, there was no denying he was brilliant at his job. She saw how composed he was in the face of adversity, and how he carefully planned their course of action.

As Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday rolled along, Fangs and Sweet Pea were discharged and resting in their respective rooms. Everyone found their rhythm in the list of tasks Jughead had assigned everyone. But despite how well things were going, Betty felt a severe Jughead drought. While she enjoyed Veronica’s presence, Betty still felt something was missing. After spending three days in his presence at Vegas, and then with him suddenly driving off alone to meetings with informants, she felt his absence so heavily.

In the mornings, as Betty and Veronica worked on tracing Greg’s trip to New York, Jughead would stop by at Veronica’s room to ask them for updates, and then leave for the rest of the day. Betty looked forward to the five minutes he spent asking them questions. He’d come back late at night for a meeting with all the Serpents, where he discussed the progress they had made and gave out new assignments. She could see he was exhausted, as bags grew under his eyes and his voice became more resigned.

It was why she and Jughead hadn’t had a proper conversation since that afternoon in his room where he had opened up to her in a way he never had before. Even though he’d said she could come in any time, she didn’t want to disturb whatever hours he had to himself. Still, she missed him. She really, really missed him.

Jughead missed Betty. Without her jokes and laughter floating around him constantly, his days felt as they had before he’d met her: a haze of dull and gray. He figured that she was too busy with the task he had given her so he didn’t go near her as much to not bother her. He wasn’t used to her not hovering around him and making him nervous, pestering him with side comments and questions.

He’d spent the last few days driving around the city to talk to informants, getting the intel he needed before he formally called a ceasefire with the Ghoulies for the meeting he planned to hold.

He tried to tell himself it was a good thing they were spending so little time together, because maybe distracting himself with work was what he needed to temper his feelings. And yet, as he went about doing his work, she crossed his mind more times than necessary. His feelings weren’t going to temper at all.

On Friday morning, on his way to meet up with Samantha Yen, Greg’s second-in-command, he kept turning to his right as he drove, half-expecting Betty to be there. He had turned on his radio even if he normally hated it, because he could imagine Betty loudly talking over the program and shooting out her opinions.

He arrived at an early morning bar that only had few people. Seeing that Samantha wasn’t there yet, he sat at a table in the corner and ordered a drink that he had no plan of consuming.

She came in 20 minutes late, though he wasn’t mad. He learned long ago not to let dumb power moves get the better of him, which was why he remained calm in front of the likes of Peter and Damian. Petty power moves were for people who couldn’t rely on their own wits to get what they wanted.

Samantha looked as she had on Sunday, with long dark hair and hoop earrings, but this time in the Ghoulies jacket. She was known to be extremely loyal to Greg, despite him overlooking her.

“Jones,” she said in lieu of a greeting as she sat across him. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the table. “Yen,” he returned. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, the Serpents want a ceasefire meeting with your leader,” he said.

“Getting straight into the point, I see,” she drawled, taking his drink and taking a long sip just to prolong his annoyance further. “Where, when, and why?”

“Tomorrow at a neutral location, I suggest the abandoned Hark Toys warehouse,” he said. “I have a proposition for your gang.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “A proposition? Of what kind?”

He leaned back into his seat. “Well that’s why I want a meeting with your leader, right?” he said. “Up to you if you want to hear it out tomorrow, but I won’t be telling it to you here.”

Samantha thought for a moment. “So let me get this straight – our gang leaves two of your members badly injured-”

“In a failed kidnapping attempt where we were outnumbered and yet still managed to get away,” he interrupted, raising a finger.

She shot him a glare. “And you expect us to believe you want a ceasefire meeting? To do what, exactly?”

To test his theory. To know his enemy. To confirm the success of his plan.

“To give a proposition,” he answered. “That’s all I’m gonna say. I’m sure you’ve embarrassed yourselves in front of Nick St. Clair and Hiram Lodge – so you _are_ intrigued. You’re wondering why I’m going through so much trouble to have a peaceful meeting when we can just make the next move.”

He could see she was heavily considering it. Samantha put down the glass and nodded slowly. “Alright, fine,” she spoke. “I suppose this proposition of yours is worth hearing out. Tomorrow, 8pm, the abandoned Hark Toys warehouse it is.”

“This is why I don’t trust Apple,” Veronica said. It was Friday afternoon, and she and Betty were scrolling through Greg’s iCloud, which they had easily hacked. She and Veronica had gotten even closer in the past few days, especially after Veronica decorated Betty’s room. Betty shrieked with joy when she’d seen the pink wallpaper and pastel bedsheets.

They’d spent the last few days getting ahold of Greg’s contact information and figuring out his travel history, which led them to the very moment of seeing his grand total of zero photos and zero songs on his iCloud.

“So much for having a personality,” Betty commented when she saw his lack of entertainment.

He only had only four contacts: **Hiram** **Lodge, Nick St. Clair, Samantha,** and **Damian.** He only texted Samantha regularly, and simply had call history with Nick and Hiram, though neither call or text history with Damian. It seemed that had deleted all record of him.

“Someone has a grudge,” Betty commented.

He did not text Hiram Lodge or Nick – they only called a few times a week for a duration of about five to fifteen minutes at a time. The only person he texted was Samantha, the girl Jughead meeting up with and who was walking with Greg that day at the hospital. They texted updates often, and upon reading them, they had a pretty clear picture of what happened during Greg’s trip to New York.

**Samantha: What did he say about Damian?**

**Greg: I didn’t tell him about Damian. Hiram Lodge has little faith in Nick, so he’s relying on us.**

**Samantha: That’s because he thinks Damian is still with us. We shouldn’t have let him quit.**

Greg had no reply to that. “So my father has no idea Damian’s not a part of the Ghoulies anymore,” Veronica observed. “Very interesting.”

“He must have left big shoes to fill,” Betty agreed. Damian was, after all, the brains of the Ghoulies. And according to Jughead, he was the only rational one. If the Ghoulies weren’t doing so well without him and lying to Hiram Lodge about it, then _that_ was a point of interest.

When Jughead got back, he called for a dinner meeting with the inner circle. They sat down in the far corner to be undisturbed and Betty, ravenous as always, was happy to finally have a meal with Jughead after four days of barely any interaction with him. She specifically chose to sit down beside him so as to be as near him as possible.

“Hi,” she said to Jughead, propping into her seat. The others were still putting food on their plates on the other side of the hall, so it was only both of them.

He regarded her and gave a small smile. “Hey.” She wished she’d savored the moments she got to spend with him over the weekend more, because her voice was a song to her ears.

“How was your day?” she asked. Before he could reply, however, Archie, Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni arrived and began asking questions.

“So how did it go?” Cheryl asked him, sitting down in front of them.

“Did she agree?” Veronica probed, sitting beside Betty.

Jughead looked at Betty apologetically before turning to the rest of their expectant faces. “It went as I’d expected, yes,” he explained with a nod. “We’re going to have a temporary ceasefire meeting tomorrow at the abandoned Hark Toys warehouse at 8pm.”

“Oh my god, we’ve been waiting for this day since Monday,” Veronica declared excitedly.

“Why?” Toni questioned.

“Because we’re going!” Betty announced. She and Veronica for the past few days plotted to be a part of the prospective ceasefire meeting Jughead had been setting up. They wanted in on the action. “Right, Jug? You’ll bring us, won’t you?” Betty pleaded, looking at him. Before he could reply, though, Cheryl spoke.

“Not going to happen,” Cheryl said to them with the shake of her head. “Not after you grabbed Nick St. Clair’s gun, and not after Veronica was way too excited about it.”

“Joke’s on you, Blossom, but we’ve predicted your arguments,” Veronica said. “The answer is simple: we’re _way_ past grabbing guns now. We’re going to be there to scare them.”

“Scare them?” Cheryl repeated as if the idea was ridiculous.

“I mean, think about it,” Betty said, “The looks on their faces when they see _me,_ their former hacker, and Veronica, the daughter of their boss. They’ll be _so_ threatened.”

Veronica nodded. “They’ll be shocked. They’ll be like, _who’s that cutie with the blonde hair?_ And Betty will be like, _surprise, bitch, I have root access to your system.”_

Betty and Veronica high-fived. “Damn straight,” Betty said. Jughead looked at her, an amused look on his face.

“Are you really going to say ‘surprise, bitch, I have fruit access to your system?” Archie asked, frowning.

“It’s _root_ access, Archie,” Betty said. “And I will if the situation calls for it.”

“The situation will never call for you to say that,” Toni piped in.

“I beg to disagree,” Veronica remarked.

“It’s the perfect line,” Betty added. “Oh! How about, _knock knock, you’re under my dad’s payroll?”_ she suggested.

Veronica’s face lit up. “That’s good! Write it down!” Betty, sure enough, brought out her phone and typed out _knock knock you’re under my dad’s payroll,_ under several other sassy lines they had brainstormed in the past days during breaks.

Betty then opened another note on her phone. “So, Jug, here are the twenty reasons why you should let me and Veronica come on your ceasefire operation. Number one, we-”

“You guys _are_ coming,” Jughead interrupted. “I wouldn’t have included both of you in this meeting if you weren’t.”

“What?! I haven’t even said the first reason,” Betty said, shocked. Everyone was looking at him with some level of confusion. Betty and Veronica? Tagging along at a meeting with the Ghoulies? And Jughead’s idea, no less?

“Yes, you will be coming. But you two won’t be meeting them face-to-face,” he explained. “I figured this would happen – both of you demanding to go to the meeting, especially after being holed up in this building all week. But, since you two aren’t trained in combat I had to think of some kind of compromise,” he began. “You two will be on look-out duty. I know that isn’t as ideal as your plan of walking in there and seeing the Ghoulies face-to-face, but in case anything happens, you have a big responsibility in your hands.”

He looked at Betty hopefully as he spoke, as if he was waiting for her approval.

Veronica tapped her fingers on the table. “Hm, is that a good compromise? What do you think, B?” she asked.

“Hmm,” Betty started. Waiting outside the warehouse wasn’t as fun as actually being inside the warehouse, but it was better than nothing. Besides, Jughead made a good point about them not being trained in combat. “I think it’s good. But what do you mean by ‘in case anything happens’?” she asked Jughead.

“We should be prepared for them to betray us,” Jughead told her. “If you see anything out of the ordinary going on, you will call us immediately. You’ll accompany us to the site, but you won’t put yourselves in harm’s way.”

Betty nodded. “I mean, we can’t use our cool lines unless something happens, but I get it. Sounds good to me,” she said to Veronica, who nodded in agreement. She turned back to Jughead. “Very sweet of you to come up with a compromise, Jug.”

“Very strategic, you mean,” Archie said. “He avoided that long list of yours.”

Betty shook her head at Archie. “No, I stand by what I said,” she began, turning back to Jughead. “ _Very sweet.”_

“So what’s going to happen at this meeting, specifically?” Toni asked.

Jughead, whose eyes were trained on Betty’s, faced the rest of them. “We’re going to tell them that, from the kindness of our hearts, we’re giving them a chance to back down,” he explained. “We’re going to cut down Greg’s ego.”

“And what exactly does that achieve?” Cheryl probed.

“I have a theory,” he explained. “It could very well be the stupidest theory, but if I’m right we have a solid plan. We’re going to tell the Ghoulies that we’re giving them a chance to back down. They won’t take the chance, though.”

“They won’t?” Toni repeated.

He shook his head. “Greg’s ego is too big for that, especially since Hiram’s paying him well. We’ll get a rise out of him by underplaying his moves and he’ll let his guard down,” he continued. “It’s all I need, and we’ll move on to phase two.”

“How many phases does this plan entail?” Veronica asked.

“Three,” he answered.

“So we’re going to walk into that warehouse… tell the Ghoulies we’re giving them ‘a chance’, and then pray to god your theory is right?” Archie reiterated. “Sounds like a plan.”

On Saturday night, after Betty finished getting changed into a black v-neck top and a denim skirt (the most intimidating clothes she had), a knock came on her door. She opened it to find Jughead standing in front of her in a leather jacket. She was caught immediately by how good he looked, his black hair falling over his face and his eyes so blue and up close. “Jug, hey, what’s up?” she said.

He smiled, and Betty realized he was holding something. A dark piece of clothing.

He handed her a leather jacket, identical to his. On the back was a patch of a dark green snake that read, _Serpents._ It was the coolest piece of clothing she’d ever seen. Jughead looked mildly apologetic, though. “We’re leaving in five minutes. I know it isn’t pink like you requested, but-”

“Oh my god, I love it,” Betty interrupted, snatching it from his grasp and admiring it.

She looked up to see Jughead, who was smiling at her.

She looked at the jacket again, smooth against her fingers. It was thick and of high-quality material and a little heavy, gleaming under the light.

She liked what it represented – that she had friends. The Serpents were a gang of criminals, she remembered. And yet, they had been so welcoming to her, making her feel as if she was a part of them even if she had only known them for less than two weeks. They were good people, and nothing could convince her otherwise.

Betty thought of her life before she had met them – where she talked to herself and only had Jonesy to sit beside her on the couch as she did her computer work. She had been so lonely. Now she had Veronica to hack with and a real-life Jones who was standing in the corridor and giving her a jacket that symbolized that she wasn’t alone.

How lucky was she to have found five wonderful people just because she saw a black Corolla stuck in traffic last Tuesday morning? From the moment she’d met them, she’d known who these people were: good people. _Her_ people. She knew she belonged.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

Jughead’s eyes widened, worried. “Betty, are you crying-”

Betty suddenly pulled him into a hug. A tight, bone-crushing hug with her arms swung around his neck. She felt his warmth and his shock at her unexpected embrace, and she hoped he didn’t mind. But she couldn’t help it. She didn’t know the last time she had hugged anybody, but it felt nice. She could smell his cologne and feel the soft fabric against her face. “Not a sad cry, don’t worry,” she whispered against his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh,” he said softly, his arms tentatively wrapping around her, too. Betty liked how he felt against her: protective and gentle. They hadn’t talked much in days, and it hit her again how much she had missed his watchful eye and genuine concern for everything she did. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, a hand running down her back comfortingly.

“I’m so happy I met you, that’s all,” she explained, letting go prematurely to wipe her face. “I don’t think I’ve said it enough, Jug – but thank you,” she said. “For everything, especially last Sunday. I know I can be a handful-”

He shook his head. “You’re not a handful.”

Betty looked at Jughead, dubious.

“Okay, maybe a little,” he relented. “But I don’t really…” he stopped, looking away.

“You don’t really…?” Betty looked at him expectantly.

“I don’t really mind,” he finished. “I don’t mind a handful,” he added with more conviction.

She smiled. “Look at you! And you act all tough,” she teased, and Jughead shook his head with a smile, exhaling. He needed to stop smiling that way, she thought in the back of her mind. Or else she’d forget how to think.

They took two cars: one for Cheryl and Toni and the other for Betty, Veronica, Jughead, and Archie. With Jughead driving and Archie to his right, the two girls sat in the backseat and excitedly discussed their look-out plan.

He repeatedly looked at Betty through the rearview mirror as her face lit up with anticipation. He remembered how she had cried when he’d handed her the Serpent jacket and hugged him steadily. Her face was full of such genuine joy that in the moment of their embrace, that he cursed whatever world she had been living in before she had friends, because how was it possible that the world hadn’t appreciated her?

“So you’ll talk, then Cheryl, then Toni, then me?” Archie clarified the plan, snapping Jughead out of his Betty-induced daze.

“Yes,” Jughead said, making the effort to focus. “We’ll make our threat and tell them we’re giving them a chance,” Jughead explained. “And you’ll mention Damian. But under no circumstances do we mention we’ve _met_ Damian.”

Archie nodded. “Hm. I’m still very confused as to what you want to achieve with this, but okay.”

They arrived at the warehouse, a big building that had been abandoned for over two decades. It was a usual spot for shady deals, perfectly hidden from the hustle and bustle of usual LA. He and Archie got out of the vehicle, with Betty and Veronica waving them goodbye excitedly.

“I hope it goes well,” Archie remarked, seeing Cheryl and Toni step out of their own car. On the other side of the warehouse, a van arrived and parked. The Ghoulies had arrived, too.

Jughead wordlessly walked to the front door of the building, the steel rusty against his hand as he opened it. The Serpents entered. And soon enough, they were followed by the Ghoulies. Cheryl walked over to the main switch, turning on all the lights in the wide structure. The warehouse was filled with large crates.

They made their way to the middle for open space. Four Serpents and four Ghoulies. Everyone stopped to look at each other. “Jughead Jones,” Greg announced. “And company,” he added, turning to the rest of them.

“I appreciate you all keeping your word,” Jughead said with a nod, tone secure. “Let’s make this as civil as possible, shall we? I mean, you owe us at least that much. After you ambushed two Serpents.”

Greg sneered. “We’ll be civil. But we owe you nothing,” he shot back. “Taking Betty Cooper? You made the first move.”

“Exactly, Greg. We’re a step ahead of you. So don’t try anything funny,” he said confidently. “We came prepared.” He then turned to look at Cheryl and cued her with a nod.

Cheryl stepped forward. “So you all are probably wondering why we called you here,” she began, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’re here out of the kindness of our hearts. To give you a chance.” Betty would probably be scared of her if she hadn’t seen Cheryl gently stroke Toni’s hair before.

Samantha scoffed. “Kindness of your hearts?” she repeated. “A chance?”

Cheryl shot her a look. “Yes, a chance,” she said. “As Jughead mentioned, we’re a step ahead of you. We know your affiliations with Hiram Lodge, we have his daughter Veronica on our side, and we have your hacker who has quite the information on you... We know about Nick St. Clair, too, and all about plans to sabotage our gang. You’ve been working on this for months, correct? And so far… what do you have? A failed kidnapping attempt?”

Greg’s face was murderous. Cutting down his ego, check. “What do you want, Blossom? Did you come here just to gloat?” he snarled. “I thought you had a ‘proposition’.”

She smirked. “All in good time, Greg. Toni, will you do the honors of telling them why we’re here?” she said, turning to her girlfriend, who stepped forward and began to talk.

Betty and Veronica sat in the front seats of the car, eyes aimed at the entrance to the warehouse.

“I missed Archie a lot on your trip,” Veronica said. “I wish I saw him get food poisoning, honestly. You described it so funnily.”

Betty laughed. “It _was_ hilarious. And just so you know, Archie missed you in Vegas, too,” Betty told her.

She shook her head. “B, it’s okay. You don’t have to exaggerate. I’ve accepted that nothing’s going to happen,” she said, a tinge of sadness in her words.

“I mean it, Veronica. He talked about you _a lot._ And he bought a dress for you, didn’t he? It took him an hour to find it,” she replied. “He cares about you. I don’t think it’s a lost cause.”

Veronica didn’t answer, instead leaning forward and looking straight ahead, eyes narrowed. “Who’s that?” she said, surprised. They were pretty much in an abandoned street with no neighboring buildings, so if there was someone else there, they were compromised.

Betty turned to what her friend was looking at. Far off, on the other side, in another door to the warehouse, two men were breaking a padlock with a crowbar. “Oh my god. I think they’re trying to go inside,” Betty said, immediately grabbing her phone and calling Jughead. But for some reason, the call wouldn’t go through. Zero bars. “It’s not working. How is there no signal?”

Veronica was calling Archie on her own phone. “Holy shit. I think they put a signal jammer,” she said.

“A signal jammer? Oh my god. We have to warn them,” Betty said, feeling her heartbeat quicken. They were in danger. Their look-out duty was useful, after all. “Let’s go inside. There’s probably another door somewhere here.”

They quietly got out of the car so as not to be seen by the two men on the other side of the building. “There’s a fire exit there,” Betty said, pointing at a rusty staircase leading to a door on the second floor. She and Veronica climbed up before realizing the door was locked.

“How are we going to get inside?” Veronica asked, eyes wide.

Betty brought out her phone and went on Youtube, searching for a video on how to pick locks. She handed the phone to Veronica. “Hold this,” she said, taking a hairpin from her hair, messing her updo. She watched the video as she attempted to break the lock with the pin.

Veronica watched Betty, speechless and impressed, as she successfully got through the keyhole and pried the door open in just under a minute. “Wow,” she said. “I’m scared of you, Betty.”

Betty shrugged proudly. “I did it a long time ago when I got locked out of my apartment,” she remarked, and they walked into the mezzanine of the warehouse. Down below, they could see a maze of large crates about four feet in height. In the middle of the area was an empty space the size of a small room, where the eight gang members stood. Betty and Veronica crouched since they were facing the Ghoulies’ direction. They spied from their spot, trying to find the two men who were trying to get inside earlier.

Betty observed what was going on as she fixed her ponytail. One appeared to be the leader. Greg. He was tall, late 20s, with blonde hair cropped short and a glower on his face. Next to him was a girl with straight black hair and hoop earrings. Samantha, she guessed. Two others – both male – stood around them. They had leather jackets of their own, but they looked cheap compared to the Serpents’.

It was Toni talking. “We want you to end this pointless, failing crusade,” Toni said. “And we’ll forget everything you’ve done. And go in peace.”

The Ghoulie leader laughed, his voice echoing through the empty warehouse. “We’re not scared,” he said, though he seemed on-edge.

Archie finally stepped forward, face serious. It was the first time Betty ever saw Archie look even a little bit intimidating, courtesy of the jackets they all had on. “But you should be,” Archie spoke. “Even your pal Damian Torres would agree. Say, where is he?” he asked smugly, feigning cluelessness.

“Acting chops,” Veronica muttered with a proud smile at the boy she was in love with.

With the four Serpents intimidating them and demeaning them, Betty could start to see Jughead’s plan coming together. Greg, Samantha, and the two other Ghoulies looked vicious, breathing heavily, as if heavily considering spitting out reckless words.

Samantha recovered from her rage quicker than her boss, and from the thoughtful look on her face, she even seemed to be considering the proposition the Serpents had given them. She stepped forward by Greg’s side, not half as confident as her leader. “Greg, I think they’re right-”

“ _No,”_ Greg interrupted harshly. His breathing became even heavier, and Betty saw the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. His gaze hardened as the anger written all over him shifted to something personal and intense. Betty realized that there was something else in his face, something more than anger. His face had fallen.

He was in despair.

Greg glared at Jughead, “We’re not taking your stupid chance. We’re not backing down. And I don’t give a _fuck_ what Damian says-”

“Damian’s still with us, but we don’t need him to be here,” Samantha cut him off briskly and gave Greg a warning look. Greg, Betty realized, was a loose cannon. He almost let it slip that Damian wasn’t a part of the Ghoulies anymore. “And you seriously called us here just to say that? What complete and utter bullshit and waste of our time-”

“We have to go down,” Betty whispered as Samantha continued to berate them. They tried to be low-key in going down the stairs to the ground floor.

Just then, she saw the two men enter through the back door in the far corner of the warehouse that wasn’t lit up properly. Holding guns. They were quickly making their way to where everyone was talking.

So much for a ceasefire.

Without hesitation, Betty made her way past the crates. “LOOK OUT!” she shouted, and the four Serpents became alert, catching sight of the two men whose guns were pointed at them. Greg, Samantha, and the two Ghoulies stepped out of the way so the two men would have a better aim.

The two men shot, but the four Serpents successfully dodged them by dispersing and ducking low behind crates. Betty crouched low behind a box, as she had separated from Veronica during her cry of warning.

She looked for Jughead scanning the area, feeling her head spin. He had to be okay, right? _Jughead,_ her mind kept saying, and it was as if her lungs ceased to work, and the world was a blur of things she’d didn’t care about until her eyes finally found him.

She breathed a sigh of relief. He was alright.

He was several feet away and behind a crate, bent with one knee on the floor. He brought his gun out of his jacket but didn’t aim it at the Ghoulies. He didn’t see her, but he was looking around the room, searching for someone instead of shooting at the men right away.

 _Come on, shoot,_ she wanted to say, but that would give off her location to someone unwarranted.

She saw Jughead exhale heavily and returned his attention to the gunmen, training his eyes on them. He shot twice, hitting one man on the shoulder. Betty sneakily made her way to Jughead, gaze not leaving him in case he got hurt. He turned around and finally saw her, crouching and a few feet away. A look of relief was on his face. Had he been looking for her?

“Betty,” he said, breathless, as more gunshots were heard.

“Jug,” she said back, also out of breath.

Hastily and without another word, his eyes not leaving hers, he rushed to her and grabbed her hand, his grip tight and firm. He took her in another direction as they stayed low.

Betty hoped the others were safe. Jughead held her hand tighter, as if afraid they’d separate, and they sprinted out into a dark room of the warehouse. Betty was inhaling heavily, her heart pounding in her chest. She highly regretted that she wore a skirt, because running in the confines of denim was tough. They wordlessly went through an exit and out into the cold of the night.

They stopped when they were just outside the warehouse door. “Veronica and I saw two guys going inside, but they put a signal jammer so we couldn’t call you-” she began to explain, but stopped when Jughead placed his hands on her shoulders, thumbs pressed on her collarbone. It surprised her.

“Are you okay?” he asked her gently, scanning her face. His right hand brushed the side of her cheek cautiously.

Betty looked into his eyes. She supposed that in an ordinary situation, a shoot-out would have terrified anyone. But Betty realized she hadn’t been scared for herself. She had been scared for _him._ She also realized he was touching her face. He’d never done that before. Was he doing it deliberately, or was he unaware of it?

“I’m okay, yes,” she answered. He was bending to look at her more steadily, their faces only inches apart. She looked at his face, too, and for the first time, she saw that he was terrified. His blue eyes were big and glassy and his expression was shaken. He never looked that way before. “You’re scared?” she asked, holding his arm.

He swallowed, hands dropping to his sides suddenly as if he realized he had been touching her. Jughead looked to the floor. “No,” he said unconvincingly. “I just… I couldn’t find you earlier,” he replied with an exhale.

So he _had_ been looking for her. Betty smiled at him. “But I found you, so it’s all good. And holy crap! You shot that guy in his shoulder!” she exclaimed. “I mean, sorry to him – but he had it coming. So badass. I mean, how stupid of them to think they could attack us just like that.”

He regarded at her, amused at her joy despite what had transpired. “Got to give them credit for the signal jammer, though. Probably a Hiram Lodge touch,” Jughead said. “I’m sorry for putting you in danger.”

Betty smiled. “No need to apologize. It was fun,” she said to him, shooting him a winning smile.

He gave her a small smile, too. “Outrageous definition for ‘fun’, but I’ll take it… Archie has the keys to the car, so I’m assuming he and Veronica escaped. I saw them leave the warehouse together,” he said to her. “I don’t know about Cheryl and Toni, though. We have to get far enough before we can contact them.”

She nodded, just as they heard voices behind the other side of the building getting louder. Jughead, vigilant, pulled Betty back inside the dark room of the warehouse. “Stay here. I’ll handle that,” he said to her firmly. She could barely see his face since it was so dark, and only the residual light from outside the building lit up the shadows on his features.

“Okay,” she said, nodding. As he let go of her arm and was about to leave, she instinctively grabbed his arm and pulled him back in. “Wait,” Betty whispered.

“Yeah?” he asked. She didn’t know why she called him. She’d done it without thinking better of what she was even going to do. All she knew was that she wanted him to stay with her a little longer for a reason she couldn’t place.

She could only see the blue of his pupils and the curve of his jaw as he turned to look at her. She stared for a long time, fighting the compulsion to just... she had no idea what the compulsion was. “Yeah?” he said again.

“Nothing,” she said softly, heat rising to her cheeks. His calm regard shifted into confusion.

“Okay,” he told her quietly, voice clipped, and then he was out the door, leaving her in the unlit room of the warehouse. What that was, she had no idea.

She decided to shrug off the strangeness of her pulling him back for absolutely no reason by focusing her thoughts on where she was at the moment. She brought out her phone and turned on its flashlight, lighting up the small room of the warehouse. It was filled with only more crates.

The curiosity got the better of her. She opened one of the crates with the light of her flashlight and found old, rusty pieces of scrap metal. She picked one up that was shaped like a rod, lightweight in her grasp. “Odd for a toy warehouse,” she said aloud.

Outside, she heard the sound of a punch being thrown and a pained grunt. Her pulse sped up with worry. He’d told her to stay inside, and he was right to say that – she knew that she had to be careful. But what the hell – he could be in danger.

Besides, she was the opposite of bad luck, wasn’t she?

Betty turned off her phone and put it in her pocket before going after Jughead, the metal in her hand. She turned into the place outside she had heard the noise and found Jughead, who looked completely unharmed, successfully fighting off a Ghoulie. A second Ghoulie was laying on the ground, injured, but reaching for a dropped gun feet away.

Jughead didn’t see her since he was swinging a punch at the Ghoulie, who grunted in pain and began to run away. Jughead began to chase him just as Betty saw the other Ghoulie who was on the floor had his arm outstretched towards the weapon. Betty ran to him and hit the piece of metal over his head, making a painful sound. The man let out a cry and fell to the floor, knocked out.

“Surprise, bitch. I have root access to your system,” Betty said to him harshly, a satisfied look on her face. Jughead turned around to look at her, surprised, and the man he had been chasing had run away.

“Betty-”

“I’m sorry,” she cut him off. “I know you told me to stay back, but you have to admit that was so cool-”

“That was the perfect line,” he interrupted, eyes gleaming. He completely forgot about the man he was supposed to chase, instead looking at her.

Betty smiled. “Seriously? I thought you’d be worried out of your mind,” she said.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I _am_ worried out of my mind that you decided to go outside with a crowbar for a weapon to fight off a gang member,” he told her, an amused and exasperated sigh escaping him. “But that was too good not to compliment first,” he joked. She loved it when Jughead made jokes. Because beneath his brooding exterior, she always knew she had it in him.

“The other one got away, though,” Betty said with a defeated sigh.

“Well, we have one of them, thanks to you,” he said to her with another smile. “Seriously, though, we should probably get your trained,” he continued. “That was impressive. Where’d you get the crowbar, anyway?”

“It’s not a crowbar, just a hunk of metal I found in the warehouse,” she explained. “That was my first physical fight,” Betty said, tapping the end of the metal rod on her palm. “Opposite of bad luck, right?”

He smiled for real. “Opposite of bad luck,” he repeated, assured. “So now we can question this son of a bitch when he wakes up,” he said, looking down at the passed out man.

“I saw Greg and Samantha drive off, though,” he informed her. “And assuming the others took the cars, we’ll probably have to call them to pick us up.”

They were so cavalier, considering he had just fought two men right after a gunfight and that there was a knocked-out gang member at their feet. But then again, Jughead was a gang leader. He definitely had seen worse. “Is he going to be okay?” she asked.

He examined his injuries and nodded. “Yes, he’ll probably only have a concussion,” he told her. “He’s lucky we’re not homicidal.”

Betty laughed. “Good to know I’m not crushing on a murderer,” she blurted out without realizing what she was saying.

Jughead froze at her words. He swallowed, eyes big, and Betty was speechless. Did her mouth really just say she had a crush on him? Was her brain thinking that? She didn’t even know she was thinking it, let alone saying it aloud. They stared at each other.

Betty crossed her arms over her chest apprehensively, turning away. She couldn’t believe her own words. _Good to know I’m not crushing on a murderer._ What the hell?

No way. There was no way she meant what she’d said.

Jughead swore his heart stopped and all of LA had shaken beneath his feet. Did he hear her correctly? Before he could figure out his thoughts, or understand what she’d meant by that, or even make out a reply, his phone rang. The signal jammer must have turned off. He didn’t know whether to be grateful or curse the call.

“Hello?” His voice was tight as he pressed his phone to his ear. “Veronica? Is everyone okay?” he asked.

“Oh, thank god. We thought they took you. Yes, we escaped. Are you with Betty?” she asked, anxious.

“I am, we’re okay,” he told her, trying to focus on the phone call. He glanced at Betty and the words echoed in his head again. _Good to know I’m not crushing on a murderer._

“We saw Cheryl and Toni drive off. I’m with Archie. We circled the warehouse but couldn’t find you,” Veronica said.

“We were probably still inside. But we’re fine,” he said. “We have one of the Ghoulies with us. Passed out on the floor.”

_Crushing. Crush. Crushing. Crush._

“Holy shit,” he heard Archie’s voice say. So he was on speaker. “You got one of them?”

“Well, at least one good thing came out of this night. That was horrible,” Veronica said with a sigh. “A complete failure.”

Jughead shook his head. “I wouldn’t say a _complete_ failure,” he said. “We got what we wanted, plus a member of the Ghoulies. Probably an irrelevant member, but he probably knows something.” Irrelevant because Samantha and Greg had no problem driving off without him just minutes ago.

“Are you serious? How is this not a failure? The meeting lasted fifteen minutes before they started shooting-”

“I’ll explain later,” he replied. Besides the whole gunfight, he considered the meeting irrefutable proof that his theory was right. He considered himself good at reading emotions, and Greg was an open book. “But we got what we wanted.”

“…Okay,” Veronica said, hesitant. “Where are you guys? We’ll pick you up.”

“Still at the warehouse. Just outside,” Jughead told them.

“’Kay, bye,” Veronica said before he ended the call.

“They’re okay?” Betty asked.

He nodded as he placed his phone back in her pocket. “Yeah, they escaped. They’re on the way.”

“Okay, good,” she said with a nod.

Jughead scanned her face, trying to figure out if either of them should address what she said.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” she said suddenly and quickly. “It was a joke. I’m not- I don’t have a crush-”

 _Oh._ Jughead widened his eyes. “Oh, yeah, of course. I knew it was a joke,” he said to her, laughing it off lightly. “Yeah, I know. I didn’t- trust me; I didn’t think it was-”

“Okay, good!” she said a little too loudly.

Without a word, he swallowed and nodded. Of course she was joking. There was no need to make a big deal out of it. Betty always made jokes. So why did this one feel different?

She was completely unaware of what effect she had on him. When she’d heard his voice earlier, shouting “LOOK OUT”, he had felt the whole world freeze around him. In that moment, the only thing that had filled him was _her,_ and if she was safe.

When she had found him, crouching a few feet away behind a crate, the relief that filled him was unlike any he had felt before. The world had turned into slo-mo, and she was the center of the chaos of that moment – the anchor that pulled him into and out of focus.

No, she really had no idea what she did to him.

He couldn’t get her words out of his head. _Good to know I’m not crushing on a murderer._ And even if she’d told him she was joking and that she hadn’t meant it, the effect of her statement still lingered.

“So what did Veronica say?” she asked, readjusting her jacket. He liked how she looked in it – the clothing that represented the danger their lives led contrasted her constant smile. Seamless, beautiful juxtaposition.

 _Focus, Jughead. She asked a question,_ he told himself. “Uh, well, she thinks it went horribly. Which, I suppose it did – but I consider it a success,” he said to her, eyes facing forward. He didn’t look at her.

“Why a success?” she wondered. He was partially glad she moved on so quickly from the topic. Though he had barely recovered.

“Because my theory was right,” he explained. “I don’t know if you saw it, but when Archie mentioned Damian to Greg, did you see his face?”

Betty nodded. “You mean that fit of toxic masculinity?” she said with a chuckle.

“Yes, but also something else,” he said, glancing at her quickly before turning away.

She stared ahead thoughtfully. “Something else?” she speculated aloud. “Hm.”

“Besides the rage and curled fists, there was also-”

“Heartbreak,” she finished as if realizing something.

He looked at her. She’d seen it, too then. Because while Greg looked enraged at the mention of Damian, he looked in despair, too – as if it was personal to _him_ and _him_ alone. It had proved Jughead’s theory.

“I know what your plan is,” she said, face lighting up, raising a finger as if a lightbulb was floating above her. “You had a theory that was either stupid or genius that would launch you into phase two of your three-phase plan…But first, you needed to see how Greg would react after you ‘cut down his ego’ because you needed to get confirmation your plan would work,” Betty said confidently, looking at him like a detective making a big solve. “You want to bring Damian back to infiltrate the Ghoulies as a double agent. Because Greg… is in love with him.”

“That’s exactly it,” he told her, impressed. She reasoned it all so quickly, it was almost scary. Like when she’d guessed he was a writer that night in Vegas.

The theory came to him after Fangs and Sweet Pea were injured. He remembered what Peter had said to him and Toni: that Damian came from old money and only joined the Ghoulies because of love. It made him wonder how Damian could ever dumb himself down for a crime group as lowly as the Ghoulies – unless, of course, the person he fell in love with was someone of high ranking in the gang: Greg, the leader.

A plan had begun spinning itself in his head: if Damian returned to the Ghoulies under Jughead’s command, he’d be back to being the ‘brains’ of the gang. Naturally, Jughead would then have control and unbridled information on Hiram Lodge and his plans. Because it wasn’t just the Ghoulies they needed to take down. They were only pawns to the real enemy: Hiram Lodge.

Convincing Damian would be almost easy.

What he needed to prove, then, was if Greg had feelings for Damian, too. Because if he didn’t, then the plan would never work. But Jughead had been right, after all.

And Betty had figured it out in under a minute.

“How did you-?” he began, though he realized he wasn’t even surprised. Betty was perceptive and intelligent. She was, without a doubt in his mind, brilliant.

“Only my skills of deduction,” she answered, doing a theatrical bow with a proud look on her face. “It’s a solid plan, and I’m in. OH MY GOD!” she then shouted excitedly, realizing another thing and making him jump at her sudden outburst. “Does this mean we’re going back to Vegas?!”


	9. “That stays between us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry the update took so long, I had so much homework! enjoy :)

“He knows nothing. This is useless,” Cheryl said, exasperated, as she entered Veronica’s room where the inner circle waited.

Cheryl had wanted a one-on-one shot at getting the Ghoulie – who had introduced himself as a man named Reggie Mantle – to spill information, and yet the Ghoulie was either rigid as hell or just plain ignorant. He seemed clueless as to who Hiram Lodge even was. It became apparent that Greg was keeping his own gang in the dark.

“So what do we do? Set him free?” Veronica asked. It had been an hour since they got back from the ‘ceasefire’ meeting with the Ghoulies that ended in gunshots and Betty knocking a gang member out with a piece of metal.

It was out of the question. “Set him free? If he’s not going to give us information, we’ll have to find another way to make him useful,” Toni said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Maybe we can send him as an undercover agent,” Archie suggested, earning a hearty laugh from Betty.

“Sure, like that fool who got hit on the head by a piece of metal has the acting chops,” she remarked, laughing and clasping a hand over her mouth. Archie gave her a weird look. It had been the third time that night she had mentioned her attacking a Ghoulie with a piece of metal (easily one of her proudest moments).

“So since this guy is useless at the moment, I suppose it’s time you let us know your plan, Jones,” Veronica said, turning to Jughead.

“Yes, what was the point of that meeting?” Cheryl asked, sitting down beside Toni. Everyone looked at him attentively.

Jughead looked at Betty, who was smiling ear-to-ear. She was immensely smug since she figured out his plan back at the warehouse. “It was a success,” he informed them. “I confirmed my theory, and we can move on to the next steps.”

“Realistically speaking, we can take down the Ghoulies. We have the resources and the intel,” he began, “But it’s not the Ghoulies we should be after. We can’t just focus our attention to the Ghoulies, not when there’s a bigger fish.”

“A bigger fish?” Archie asked.

“My father,” Veronica answered for him with a tired and regretful sigh. Her father was the leech of her life, and it seemed no matter where she went he was out to follow her. Archie placed a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

Jughead nodded. “The Ghoulies are pawns to Nick St. Clair and Nick St. Clair is a pawn to Hiram Lodge. If we take them down, Hiram will just send another group for us – or he’ll take us down himself, which will be far more detrimental.”

“So we’ll take down Lodge Industries?” Archie asked. “That’s ambitious.”

Jughead shook his head. “ _Also_ realistically speaking, we can’t take down Hiram,” Jughead continued. “Despite the lawsuits and the last couple years of bad press, Lodge Industries is still a multimillion-dollar corporation, with rich and powerful Wall Street investors to protect him. If he wants to take us down to take his daughter back, he can very well do so with or without the Ghoulies’ help. Hiram doesn’t see our gang as that much of a threat.”

“That’s rude of him. We sent him to jail,” Cheryl scoffed.

“Agreed. But him underestimating us actually works in our favor. I believe that Nick St. Clair was assigned to take us down as a test – to prove his competence or loyalty,” Jughead said. “Clearly, he’s been failing.”

To recap Nick’s failures: finding Betty, swiping her computer from her apartment, kidnapping Sweet Pea and Fangs – and, more recently, the events at the warehouse.

“Oh yeah, I remember his dad pressuring Nick, who was very protective,” Betty remarked. Nick’s father had seemed hard on his son, pushing him to be better at his job. It meant that Nick was trying to prove himself.

“Sooner or later, Hiram will realize that Nick and the Ghoulies are useless,” Cheryl said.

“Exactly,” Jughead concurred. “I think Hiram’s already beginning to think that. Hence, calling Greg over to New York last week, where Greg made Hiram believe that Damian was still part of the gang, probably because Damian was the only intelligent one out of all of them. But we can’t let Hiram Lodge think that Nick and the Ghoulies are failing – or else we’ll face a very real threat if Hiram comes for us himself.”

“So what do we do? Let them hurt us?” Veronica questioned.

“In a way, yes,” he answered. “We’ll be defensive, but not offensive. We won’t let them _fail.”_

“How are we going to do that?” Toni asked.

“This is where tonight comes in,” he explained. “Remember what Peter said? About why Damian joined the Ghoulies?”

Toni nodded. “Because he fell in love with one?”

“Yes, despite him being rich. Why would Damian dumb himself down for that gang? Why doesn’t the Ghoulie he’s in love with leave the gang and join Damian instead?” he said. “It made me suspect that the Ghoulie he fell in love with was Greg – because he’s the leader and can’t just ditch the Ghoulies.”

“Damian in love with _Greg?_ Where have the standards gone?” Veronica commented.

Archie nodded in agreement. “Exactly. It’s atrocious. It should be the other way around.”

“Love makes people do stupid things,” Jughead remarked.

“ _Bold_ things, you mean,” Betty cut in.

“Same thing,” Jughead replied.

“So Damian has terrible taste and is in love with Greg. So what?” Cheryl asked, crossing her arms over her chest, still confused.

“Oh! This is the part that I guessed!” Betty exclaimed, clapping her hands and looking at Jughead with an even bigger smile on her face. “Can I do the honors?”

He nodded. “Okay, so,” Betty started, “The fact that Damian was in love with Greg is big news, right? Jughead’s theory was that Damian’s feelings aren’t a one-way street. And he was right. Greg likes him too!”

Jughead noticed immediately how different he and Betty told stories. While he got straight to the point in sound fashion, Betty liked to throw in side comments and have a flair for the dramatic.

Veronica’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? How did you guess that?” she asked her.

“I noticed it from my spot on the mezzanine earlier – the way Greg looked _heartbroken_ when Archie mentioned Damian was straight out of a soap opera,” Betty responded. “And who can blame him? If I was Greg and Damian was the one that got away, I’d be hurting too.”

“So were they together?” Archie asked.

Betty shook her head. “I don’t think so. Point is, whatever they had ended things on bad terms. Still, Jug is willing to bet on this development,” Betty continued. “Because Jughead’s plan is to have Damian as a double-agent and infiltrate the Ghoulies. Damian will be forgiven, of course, because Greg has a soft spot for him and his gang is falling apart. Damian will let us know what they’re up to and what their next moves will be. That way, we build up intel on not just the Ghoulies, but Hiram Lodge. Brilliant, isn’t it?”

Everyone took in her words. “It is brilliant,” Veronica agreed, nodding.

“Agreed. It’s a good plan, as always, Jones,” Cheryl added. “And in hindsight, Greg _did_ look full of misery when Archie mentioned Damian.”

“Mhm. That was far from platonic,” Toni piped in.

“Jughead’s mind strikes again,” Archie said with a grin.

“Do you think he’ll agree to do it, though?” Toni asked. “Didn’t you say that Damian didn’t want to be involved at all?”

“Of course he’ll agree to do it. Jughead has a way with words,” Betty said, looking at Jughead with absolute certainty. “And you know what this means?” she added with a sly smile, turning to everyone.

“What do you think it means?” Cheryl asked, raising an eyebrow.

Betty was beaming as she gave Jughead a winning look. “We’re going back to Vegas!”

Jughead’s face fell. He gave her an apologetic look. “Hey, about that…”

Betty was disappointed to learn that Jughead had no plan of going back to Vegas. Instead, he thought it more convenient to meet up with Damian halfway at the diner since going away for a whole day was not ideal, especially when the Serpents were just going back to usual business.

Still, despite the disappointment, Betty urged to go. The events of the previous night had not lessened her penchant for adventure, or for spending time with Jughead – even if it was just a road trip and lunch at the diner.

“We’ll only be gone for six hours tops,” Jughead explained to Cheryl and Toni, as he was leaving them in charge. “It’s only a trip to the diner, lunch with Damian, then we head back – so if anything happens just give me a call.”

When they got into the car, the first thing Jughead did after turning on the engine was turn on the radio. Betty looked at him, raising her eyebrows. “I remember when we met, you weren’t even listening to anything,” she observed, pleasantly surprised.

Lately, every time he drove, he turned on the radio because it made him think of her, even if whatever song was playing annoyed the hell out of him. But he wasn’t going to tell her that, obviously. He nodded. “It was a bad day,” he explained.

“So today’s a good day?” she said with a smile, turning up the volume to a love song he didn’t recognize. _Can I go where you go?_ the lyrics went.

“I _love_ this song,” she said excitedly. “Have you ever been in love?” she asked suddenly, catching him off-guard. _Can we always be this close?_ the song continued.

Jughead swallowed, facing front as he began to drive. “No,” he answered truthfully with the shake of his head. “You?”

She shook her head, too. “Nope,” she said, popping the _p._ “I mean, I thought I did, in high school. But looking back, it definitely wasn’t it. I don’t think I even came close.”

He didn’t think he’d ever come close, either. It was always Archie searching for love even when they were little boys. His best friend was always crushing on someone. Jughead thought it was a waste of time to focus on dating and love, as his attention had always been elsewhere: to his dreams of leaving his Serpent-painted future and becoming a writer. Sure, he’d been had his fair share of crushes and been on a couple of dates, but nobody had ever occupied his mind completely or made his guard fall instantly.

Until Betty.

Jughead glanced at her and saw she seemed deep in thought, too. She was staring straightforward, arms crossed over her chest and eyebrows furrowed. He liked the dress she was wearing. It was one of the dresses she’d bought in Vegas: light green with yellow flowers which she wore under a denim jacket. Her hair was braided down her back and in the millisecond he looked at her, he wished he wasn’t driving so he could look at her longer.

“I mean, I’m only twenty. Twenty-one in a couple of weeks,” she said, thinking out loud. “So I have time.”

 _21 in a couple of weeks._ That was a big deal. He made a note in his head to do something for her.

He really wished he didn’t like her so much because the conversation about love was killing him.

Jughead and Betty sat beside each other in a booth while they waited for Damian, who was running late. Soon enough, the bell above the door chimed. The former Ghoulie sauntered inside, an easygoing smile on his face. It was clear that Damian was content with where he was – which was why Jughead knew in that second that he’d have to make a speech to convince him to join his strategy. This was going to take a fair amount of convincing.

“Missed me already,” he remarked as he sat down in front of them. “Not gonna lie, I missed talking to people who aren’t my bodyguards.”

“Thanks for coming to see us. You remember Liz,” Jughead greeted him.

“You mean Betty Cooper,” Damian corrected, turning to Betty. “The hacker. I got word that you did good work for them. Glad to see you’ve switched alliances, _Liz._ ”

So Damian was keeping up-to-date with the Ghoulies. Interesting. Betty smiled. “Sorry for lying about my name,” she said with a playful shrug.

“Oh, it’s fine. I get it,” he said flippantly. “Besides, it wasn’t exactly a lie, right? Betty is short for Elizabeth.”

“True, true,” she said brightly. “So have you eaten here before?”

Damian nodded. “Yes. It’s one of my favorite places. When Jones mentioned this diner on the phone yesterday, there was no saying no. I’m getting tired of having the same brunch every single day.”

Betty laughed. They were being so casual and conversational that Jughead wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Was he included? Should he say something? “Did you get food poisoning?” she asked him.

“What?”

“Archie got food poisoning after eating clams,” Betty explained. They were very friendly as if they were old pals who had a history despite having met only twice before. Jughead’s stomach twisted into knots. Did something else go on that he didn’t know about? He unknowingly gave Damian a wary look.

“I’m not a fan of seafood, to be honest, so I’ve been spared,” Damian replied.

Betty let out an audible gasp. “You’re _not?_ Not even crab?!” she exclaimed, placing her hand on her chest as if it was a personal attack. Jughead couldn’t help but smile. He, too, found it ridiculous that a Vegas native wasn’t a fan of seafood considering the buffets.

“Crab is the most tolerable of the group, but I’m still not a fan,” Damian responded with a grimace.

She shook her head quickly. “That’s outrageous. Maybe you haven’t been eating seafood right.”

Damian looked amused. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it. Maybe I can hit you up for a seafood date soon, how about that?” he suggested, and Jughead almost fell out of his seat. Damian had just asked her out. Was he serious?

“Yes!” Betty answered happily and Jughead’s mood plummeted further. She turned to Jughead. “Jughead will come, too, since he doesn’t enjoy food half as much as she should,” she added.

Damian’s face fell at the mention of Jughead. Betty either didn’t seem to get the message that he was asking her out or she was shutting him down in a friendly manner.

“Yeah, sure, we’ll bring Jones,” Damian answered, giving Jughead a quizzical brow.

Jughead cleared his throat. “We’re getting off-topic. Should we order?” he said, calling the server. “I’ll have the cheeseburger meal and a coke, thanks,” he said to him.

“Make that two meals and two cokes,” Damian said.

“Hello, make that three cheeseburger meals, two cokes, and a chocolate milkshake. And a fries platter,” Betty ordered. “That will be all, thank you, have a nice day.” The server nodded and left.

“The cheeseburger meal has fries, though,” Damian told her.

“I said what I said,” she responded with a gratified smile. “I got the fries last time and it was _not_ enough.”

Jughead remembered. She had eaten two meals and still felt a fries shortage.

Damian nodded. “Alright, can’t argue with that. So, I’m intrigued at this sudden gathering of ours. What’s up?” he asked, leaning into his seat and crossing his arms over his chest.

“We know about Greg,” Jughead said, getting into the point straight away. “That you two had something going on and it ended badly.”

Damian’s demeanor changed instantly. It wasn’t just his face – it was the change in his laidback sway. He blinked several times and took a heavy breath. “Yes, though I wouldn’t describe our relationship as ‘something going on’, because there was no ‘something’. It was _nothing._ Either way, what about it?” he questioned, sharp and defensive.

Beside him, Jughead could see Betty’s expression change from curious to off-guard. This was only her third time meeting Damian, so she had probably gotten used to him acting so carefree. “Would you mind telling us what happened between you two?” Jughead prompted.

“How is this important? You called me over here for storytime?” he asked, shaking his head with crossed brows.

“I have a proposition for you. We’re willing to compensate you well-”

“I’m rich,” Damian cut him off, puzzled at Jughead’s offer.

“Yes, I’m aware. But correction: your family’s rich,” Jughead said.

Damian huffed. “Same difference.”

“I also know that your parents aren’t happy with how your life turned out. You disappeared for years into the world of crime, for a guy who wasn’t worth-it. I know you’re worried they’ll cut you off soon. The money they’re giving you is only enough to supply your needs, correct?” Jughead told him, and Damian looked stunned. “You need money of your own, don’t you? It’s why you’re in Vegas, gambling away. Because you need money. You want to start over on your own, without relying on anybody.”

It had only been a guess he’d made after the past week of gathering information, but Jughead was sure his hypothesis was right. Seeing Damian’s face now, he knew that what he had predicted was nothing but the truth.

“Is this a thing you’re going to keep doing, Jones? Catching me unready and bending my seemingly stoic stances to suit your gang?” he said with a resigned sigh, though Jughead knew that Damian was already heavily deliberating his offer.

He nodded. “If that’s what it takes, yes. Now will you tell us about Greg?”

Their food arrived and Damian finally began to talk, figuring that putting off Jughead’s questions would only backfire. “I met Greg five years ago when I was 21. I was at a bar and I somehow worked up the courage to talk to him. I’m a couple years younger than him, obviously – he’s aging like milk,” he started with a scoff. “But back then he didn’t look so awful and I immediately idolized him. I was this young, naïve kid fresh out of Caltech with a math degree-”

“Wow. You’re like, a numbers whiz then,” Betty interrupted him, popping fries into her mouth.

He smiled. “That’s one way of putting it. Anyway, I was a naïve fresh graduate who came from money, and I realized that I hadn’t accomplished anything. And Greg… he was born dirt poor but was somehow now the leader of a gang. How many people get to say they grew up on the streets but now ran a gang? A shitty gang – but still. To me, he was incredible,” he continued. “But I was blinded. He recruited me that very night, and I was so infatuated that I dropped every job offer I got and joined. You know, like an idiot.”

Betty laughed. “I think it’s cute. To drop everything for that person, just like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

Jughead thought about the previous night, and him feeling like the world had fallen away when he’d heard Betty’s voice at the warehouse. He’d forgotten about his own safety, or his own strategy, and searched for her with reckless abandon.

It was undoubtedly senseless of him to do so – Jughead of one month ago would definitely call what he did stupid. But he wasn’t the Jughead he was a month ago. What he did had been right, and nothing could change his mind about that.

“Anyway,” Damian went on, “I waited five years for him. Five years of waiting for him to see me as something more than a right-hand man. But Greg only cares about building the Ghoulies up to whatever vision he has in his head. I became a serial dater, hoping he’d notice if I had a new boyfriend or girlfriend every month.”

He exhaled heavily, the memories making his voice shakier. “But he didn’t care,” he continued. “He doesn’t care for anybody but himself. And I began to notice that he wasn’t who I made him out to be. I mean – let me ask you this: how do you recruit people in your gang, Jones?”

“We don’t recruit people. We wait for those who have nowhere else to go to come to us,” he answered.

It was the whole truth. Archie, Toni, Veronica, Cheryl, and all members of the Serpents had approached the gang, not the other way around. They joined of their own accord – and as long as Jughead was leader, it would stay that way. No threats, no persuasion. Respect and loyalty were choices that came from a place far from pressure. The Serpents were a family more than a business.

“Because that’s the right thing to do, right? Gangs are supposed to be found family,” Damian said. “But Greg… He gets troubled kids who are poor and flunking their classes, and he takes what little hope they have away and threatens them into joining the gang,” Damian said, shutting his eyes as if the memory hurt him too much to explain. “He’s a fucking asshole.”

Betty nodded. “He’s terrible,” she agreed with a sigh.

“And I know your gang is trying to go clean,” Damian told him. “Clean _er,_ at least. You phased out the drugs, and you’ll be phasing out your weapons dealing, right?”

Jughead nodded. The first thing Jughead had done when he became leader was to phase out the drug transactions the Serpents were involved in. It was too dangerous.

“I don’t know why it took me five years to realize he was a bad person,” Damian said. “He used me to prop up his gang, knowing full well how I felt about him. Until I stopped caring.”

“But until he started to,” Betty said quietly. Jughead remembered the despair in Greg’s face. Damian’s feelings weren’t as one-sided as he thought.

Damian gave a lopsided, almost sad smile. “Years too late. And I wouldn’t call how Greg feels for me anything more than possessiveness. But I guess for bad people, the line between love and possession blurs. So it doesn’t matter. In the end, I wasted years of my life for something that wasn’t worth it.”

“That’s really sad,” Betty told him, and when Jughead looked at her, he could see she looked sincerely concerned for Damian’s story. She didn’t touch her food as she listened, contemplative. Jughead wondered if she was maybe thinking about her own life.

Jughead leaned forward, ready to give his speech. “We’ll be completely honest: my proposal isn’t ideal for you. It’s dangerous and messy. But if it works – and you should know that my plans always work – we’ll have not just money by the end of it, but Hiram Lodge _and_ Greg in prison for a very long time. And you’ll be able to put this all behind you.”

Damian exhaled, tapping his fingers on the table. “Okay, let’s hear this proposal, then.”

It took only fifteen minutes of explaining and convincing to get Damian in on the plan. Jughead pushed all the right buttons – revenge, compensation, and a chance to start over. It was a good thing that he’d gotten him to recount his history with Greg, because it had brought him back to everything their gang had done, just enough to convince him.

Damian wasn’t an outside player now. He was going to bring them what they needed. In three days, phase two of Jughead’s plan would begin. Damian would be back in California begging Greg to join the gang again under the excuse that his family had cut him off.

When they finished their meal and discussing the logistics of the strategy Betty announced that she needed to use the bathroom before they left, so the two men remained at their booth.

Damian looked at Jughead. “So what’s going on with you two?” he asked him, offhand. “Are you two in that weird stage where you both have feelings for each other but nobody does anything about it?”

Jughead felt his whole body go hot. “What – what are you talking about?”

“You’re not the only one testing theories, Jones,” Damian replied, smirking. “I asked her out, you looked pissed, and then she turned me down by _including you.”_

Jughead didn’t necessarily agree with Damian’s assessment. Betty was just naturally inclusive. He stuttered out a reply. “That’s – I don’t know what – I – ”

“And you’re stammering even though you’re notoriously eloquent,” he interrupted. Jughead felt exposed in a way he never had in front of somebody like Damian Torres before. “And I know unsolicited advice is annoying, but don’t run from how you feel.”

 _Don’t run from how you feel?_ Damian dropped his future to join the worst gang in Los Angeles. If that was where feelings made somebody end up, then running from them appeared to be the most sensible course of action. Not to mention, he and Damian weren’t friends – what made him the best person to give him advice?

“I know, I know. What do I know, right?” Damian said, reading his mind. “But I mean it – there are worse things than falling in love.”

He figured there was no point in denying it, seeing as he faltered when he tried to defend himself. Damian already seemed resolute in his conclusion and didn’t seem to think it was a big deal, anyway.

“You said ‘love is bullshit’ a week ago,” Jughead said.

“Well, I’ve changed,” Damian determined, the sad but hopeful smile returning on his face. “Love is getting me sweet revenge, a chance to turn my life around, and this lovey-dovey side to Jughead Jones. I don’t think it’s so bad.”

Jughead didn’t like that Damian was calling him lovey-dovey, but he began to consider the advice _don’t run from how you feel._ He wondered what would happen if, even for just a day, he didn’t avoid his feelings. What would happen then?

He thought of the last time he’d acted on impulse, and how it had turned out to be the biggest mistake of his life.

No, maybe Damian’s advice wasn’t such a good idea.

But when Betty got back from the bathroom and smiled at him, Jughead couldn’t be too sure. How could it ever be a good idea to run from someone like her?

Maybe Damian was right.

Jughead was quiet in the car ride back to California. He stared ahead blankly, and Betty assumed he was either swimming in thoughts or had absolutely nothing going on upstairs. She found herself quiet, too, and staring at him. It was midafternoon and they were in an empty road, the sun peeking through the windows and battling the cool air-conditioned atmosphere of the vehicle.

He finally glanced at her thirty minutes into the drive, and when he faced forward again, his expression changed into something she couldn’t discern. “Why are you looking at me?” he asked softly. She noticed his voice changed when he talked to her. It got milder and shakier, a far cry from the controlled and stanch tone he used when talking to the Serpents or Damian.

Betty shrugged, facing front. “I dunno,” she replied. “That was such a good lunch, though. And you were amazing at convincing him. Like a litigator!” she exclaimed, trying to shift the topic away. “Though I cannot, for the life of me, get over Damian’s seafood dislike. What’s his deal? What a waste of living in Vegas, where the buffets are endless.”

“You really like Vegas,” he remarked.

“Not just _like,_ Jug. I love it,” she corrected. “I’d love to go back when we’re not so busy.”

He nodded, drumming his fingers on the wheel as if considering something. Then the next thing she knew, he was turning the car in the other direction.

“Did you forget something at the diner?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jughead shook his head, glancing at her again, and his expression was finally discernable. He was smiling, as if he’d come to some life-changing decision. “No, we’re going to Vegas,” he declared.

Betty was pretty sure he was joking, but Jughead barely ever joked. “Are you serious?”

He nodded, completely sure and without hesitation. “Yes.”

“For no reason?”

“For no reason,” he repeated.

It was such an impulsive thing to do; she almost couldn’t believe it. Though when she looked at his face, his expression with a lightness she’d never seen before, she knew he genuinely wanted to go, too. “But you said we’d be back in six hours.”

“Cheryl and Toni can handle it,” he replied, nonchalant. “We’ll call.”

“But you hate Vegas,” she stated, smiling. Jughead shook his head.

She wondered what had made him change his mind, but she had no idea it was her. _She_ had changed his mind.

They spent the drive to Vegas talking with the quiet hum of the radio playing.

“So – a writer, huh? I’ve been thinking about it. And telling by that worn copy of _In Cold Blood_ sitting on your bedside, I’m guessing you write mystery?” Betty asked, turning to him.

He nodded, facing forward as he drove. “I did, yes.”

“Care to share what your stories were about?” she asked.

“I hardly remember. They’re probably pretentious as hell,” Jughead told her, laughing lightly.

“When did you last write?” she pressed on.

He thought for a moment. “Four, five years ago?” he answered.

Betty looked to the ceiling, thinking some more. “That’s so long ago. Is it like riding a bike? Once you get back to it, will it be like you never stopped?” she continued, genuinely curious.

Jughead shrugged. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I think practice is crucial, but I obviously haven’t gotten back to it… How about you? Any interests besides the computer sciences?”

Betty tilted her head to think, her braid falling to the side. “Hm. I don’t know. Back in my hometown, my only goal was to get out. My mother’s a total Karen and we were never close. I didn’t have many friends, either,” she told him. “Once I got out, though, and moved to LA, it was like I hit a dead-end. I finally achieved my dream, but so what? What came next? I had no idea.”

He remembered what she’d told him that day when they went to her apartment. _I was a head full of dreams._

“I still don’t know what I want. I’m a millennial nightmare, honestly. My skill set includes hacking and narrowly escaping danger. If my mother saw me right now, her head would explode,” she said with a light laugh, though the look in her eyes was heavy.

Jughead looked ahead for a long time without saying a word, as if trying to make sense of what she’d just laid on him. Betty was fully aware of how she presented herself: happy-go-lucky and carefree – and he probably found her sudden shift odd at best, maybe TMI at worse.

It wasn’t that she was being fake most days. Betty genuinely believed she was naturally free-spirited after having such an overbearing mother raise her for eighteen years. But Jughead had only ever seen her so serious a couple of times. She’d made the heavy topic seem so light, even if it wasn’t. There was nothing light about having an estranged mother and lost ambition.

“Hey, that sucks. And I’m sorry,” Jughead said to her after a while.

She shook her head. “It’s all good. I have my whole life ahead of me,” she replied, optimistic.

They got parking space at a building along Las Vegas strip, with zero plans and infinite possibilities. It was four pm, and the street was beginning to get busier as nighttime was set to roll along.

“So where do you want to go?” he asked her, turning to her as they turned into a less crowded street, taking their time. Betty breathed in the humid air, swept up by the energy of another brilliant city. She loved LA dearly, but there was something about this place that drugged her into a state of elation that felt so new and vibrant. While LA was about chasing dreams, Vegas was about living in the moment. And for Betty, someone who wasn’t sure what her dreams were, Vegas made her feel rewarded for simply being alive.

“Anywhere,” she answered, looking at him brightly.

“Are you hungry?” he offered, despite them having eaten only two hours ago. He knew her too well.

“ _Always,”_ Betty replied, just as they walked in front of a restaurant. And not just any restaurant: a seafood buffet. It felt like fate. They stopped in their tracks. “Oh my god, we have to eat here.”

“Ten dollars for a seafood buffet,” he observed as he looked at the menu. “That seems like a cheap way to turn out like Archie.”

Betty instantly got flashbacks to Archie huddled by the hotel room toilet and laughed. “Are you down?” she asked him.

He thought for a moment, a small smile appearing on his face as he turned to her. He looked single-minded, his expression unlike anything before. “Betty Cooper, will you eat dangerously priced seafood with me?” he asked her as if it was a marriage proposal.

She grinned. “Jughead Jones, there is nobody else in the world I’d rather get food poisoning with.”

Surprisingly, they did not get food poisoning. In fact, everything was so wonderful it was almost suspicious. The place was well-lit and the seating was comfortable and tied with the food, Betty was sure she could live there forever. Ten dollars plus tax for probably one of the best meals of their lives.

Betty watched Jughead take his time eating his food for the first time _ever_. He even occasionally gave his positive opinions on them. When he liked one dish in particular, he’d stand up and come back with more for her to try. He’d never acted so relaxed before, and yet it was still quintessential Jughead: silently caring and sweet.

One hour into the meal while Jughead was getting food, his phone on the table began to ring. _Toni._ Betty picked up the call. “Hi, Toni!” she greeted her.

“Hey, Betty. It’s been over six hours. Where are you guys? Is traffic bad?” Toni asked.

“Oh, we forgot to call, sorry,” she answered. “But we’re fine! Jug is getting food at the moment. We’re in Vegas.”

“Vegas?” she repeated, puzzled. “Why?”

“It was so last minute, really,” Betty said to her. “It was actually his idea.”

“His idea?” Toni repeated again, even more confused.

“Amazing, right? He’s getting food now. We’re at a buffet,” she said. “Which is _delicious,_ by the way. We should all come here. It’s only ten dollars plus tax and they have pasta, crab-”

“Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight,” Toni interrupted, and Betty could swear she could sense that on the other end, Toni was smiling. “Jughead just decided to go to Vegas? Just like that? And now you two are at a buffet?” her tone was of pleasant surprise.

“Mhm.”

“I thought he hated Vegas,” Toni said, intrigued.

“That’s what I said, too!” Betty replied. “But I guess he had a change of heart.”

When Toni didn’t reply, Betty spoke again. “Hello? Still there? Did you call to say anything?” she asked.

“No, no,” Toni said quickly though unconvincingly. “I mean, yes. But it’s not that serious. We can talk about it tomorrow. Both of you have a good time.”

“Thank you!”

“Of course. Bye, Betty.”

Betty said her goodbye and ended the call, looking up and seeing Jughead approaching, a plate in his hands. “You just missed it. Toni called,” she said to him.

“Oh. I forgot to contact her,” he said, surprised that he’d forgotten something that probably should have been protocol when making an unexpected detour to Vegas. “What did she say?” he asked, pulling his chair back.

“Something non-serious came up and she’ll talk to you about it tomorrow,” she answered. “But for now, she said to have fun.”

Betty was surprised he didn’t ask about what came up; he seemed too preoccupied with the food he was holding. He nodded and put down a plate of pasta in front of her. “You should try the linguini. You’ll love it.”

She loved the juxtaposition of him: how he went from convincing a criminal to join his gang’s masterplan to being considerate enough to get her food he thought she’d liked – all in the span of an afternoon. She wondered if he showed this side of himself often, or if this was something he did only for her. But she wasn’t going to make any assumptions.

After their heavy meal, Betty was grateful she decided to wear a dress instead of jeans that morning. They were certainly helpful after spending almost two hours at a buffet.

They agreed to walk off the meal by absentmindedly strolling through the streets. It was golden hour, the bright sun setting down upon them bursting with color. Betty didn’t realize she kept looking at Jughead in that hour until she was deliberately admiring the way he looked. The golden sun hit his features and livened them, reflecting all but his plain black shirt.

She realized it was the longest they’d spent together without mentioning the Ghoulies or Hiram Lodge. Betty was so used to seeing him talk and breathe and live as though he had the world on his shoulders – which, in many ways, he did. He was responsible for everyone in the Serpents, their livelihood, and making sure no harm came to them.

Now, as he looked straight ahead, he carried no weight, no burden. There was a lightness to him that was never there before. How perfect it was, she thought, to see him at ease. He’d never looked that way before. She wished he was always like this, then maybe he could pursue the life he really wanted.

She loved spending time with him. She loved learning about him and getting glimpses into the parts of himself he didn’t show other people. She cared for him and his safety and happiness – maybe too much for someone she’d met only two weeks ago, _but still._ It felt so right it probably was wrong because she couldn’t remember the last time she was so invested in a person.

It was at 6:25pm when it happened. He didn’t even have to say or do anything; but at 6:25pm, Betty came to the profound but quiet realization that she was falling for Jughead Jones.

She was falling for him headfirst, quickly, and severely.

Earlier today, she’d said she wasn’t sure she’d ever even come close to being in love. Now, though, standing beside him, she was positive that it was where she was headed.

She figured she should’ve seen it coming the moment she’d jumped into his car and immediately trusted him with her life. But then again, hearts had a habit of being the last to know.

Jughead looked at her, taking her out of her thoughts entirely. “Where to next?” he asked, oblivious.

Without thinking much of it, Betty stopped walking and grabbed onto his arm so he faced her.

“Yeah?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

She wanted to tell him how she felt. And kiss him. In that order. But for the first time, the impulsive Betty Cooper held back. She realized that falling for someone also came with an unshakable fear. She felt the fear in her rapid heartbeat and dampness of her hands.

It was such a strange and foreign feeling to be terrified of her own emotions. She’d never felt that way for anybody. Ever. She wasn’t used to being scared.

He hadn’t a clue what she was thinking. And she was absolutely sure he didn’t feel the same way – because what were the odds that somebody she’d met two weeks ago reciprocated such a rare, whirlwind build-up of feelings? Near to zero.

_Hold back, Betty._

She decided to just be okay with just being with him in one of the liveliest cities in the world. No worries, no burdens. Future Betty would deal with her feelings another time.

Betty dropped his arm. “Nothing,” she said, flicking her gaze to a karaoke bar a few buildings away. “Let’s go in there,” she told him quickly, pointing forward.

He flinched when he saw that it was a karaoke bar. “Are you serious? Our ears are going to bleed,” he said to her.

“Come on, we were wrong about the buffet. Who knows? The next Mariah Carey could be getting wasted in there right now,” Betty remarked, grasping at straws to be as casual and laidback as she could. She walked ahead of him and motioned for him to follow her.

Though he followed he reluctantly, he was smiling. Despite the weighty realization that hit her only a minute ago, Betty didn’t think there was much that changed in how she looked at him – she had always seen him as a singular and magnetic: someone who drew her in without even trying.

He wasn’t any different, she thought. _She was._

Even though it was only half-past six, there was already a drunk couple in the bar butchering _Endless Love_ on the stage.

“This is a mistake,” Jughead said right after paying the entrance fee. The place was half full, with thirty or so people, drinking on their respective tables while the awful singer’ voices blared throughout the place.

“We can totally sing better than them,” Betty replied confidently. “I say we sing the exact same song and ask the audience who did it better.”

“I don’t sing,” he answered plainly as they found a table.

She gave him a look. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” she pressed on as they sat down. They ordered several non-alcoholic drinks (because Jughead was going to drive and Betty didn’t want to get wasted alone). “We’re in the entertainment capital of the world. I think they deserve to see some _real_ talent,” she said jokingly.

“Believe me, you don’t want to hear me try,” he said to her with the shake of his head.

“You look like you have a good voice,” Betty told him, which was a theory she had made in that second, purely based on the soothing timbre of how he spoke.

“How can you _look_ like you have a good voice?” he questioned aloud, amused. “How about you? Do you sing?” he asked, obviously trying to gear the topic away from him.

Betty nodded. She’d been a part of her church’s choir back when she was in elementary and joined as an ensemble member in several musical productions when she was in high school, though she didn’t consider herself that much of a singer. “A little,” she replied.

“Then you should sing.”

“Sing with me. I promise you, nobody can sing worse than those two up there,” she told him, making him laugh. His laugh was like melted butter, she mused. She could look at the way the lines by his eyes creased when he laughed for hours upon hours.

Their drinks arrived and Jughead seemed to reconsider it. Just as the talentless couple got to the end of the song in which they attempted to curl their final notes, making them sound as though they were being tickled, Jughead took a decisive breath.

“Okay, let’s do it,” he said suddenly standing up and finishing his virgin margarita in one go. “We can’t be worse than them.” Their performance had pushed him off the edge.

Betty’s face lit up. She _knew_ he’d cave eventually. After taking a long sip from her club soda with lime, she stood up and grinned. “Let’s do this.”

“Just so you know, I have never once been to a karaoke bar my whole life,” he said to her as they walked to the song booth.

“It’s okay, Troy Bolton,” she remarked as she signed up their names.

“Who’s that?” he asked, and Betty gasped.

“Oh my god,” she said with a deep exhale. “You’ve never seen High School Musical?”

He shrugged and looked genuinely embarrassed to not have seen it. “I’ve heard of it.”

“You know what? We’ll watch it as soon as we get back,” she said, giving him a smile. They headed back to their seats because there were still four performances before them.

Four lousy solos later and when it was finally their turn (the MC had horribly butchered Jughead’s name), they each picked up a mic and went up the small stage, seeing the people looking at them expectantly. They were easily the youngest and soberest there. The instrumental of _Endless Love_ began to play.

 _“Not again,”_ Betty heard someone by the stage mutter. Understandable, considering the last _Endless Love_ performance.

Jughead leaned into her. “I survived twenty-one years without once singing in public,” he whispered before placing the mic to his mouth.

She smiled. “I’m honored you yielded so easily.”

 _“Two hearts,”_ he began. Upon the first lyrics, Betty realized her theory was right. His voice was unpracticed and shaky, sure, but, he could carry a tune. He hit the notes and there was a smooth quality in how he sang – similar to how he spoke.

He looked right at her when he performed, and amazingly, he seemed to be enjoying himself, too, telling by the smile he wore. Betty watched him with such awe and admiration that she forgot she had to sing.

He looked at her when she missed her part, raising an eyebrow. “Hey, your turn,” he called out.

“Oh!” she said, raising her mic. _“You’re every step I make…”_ she sang, and the smile that widened on his face when he heard her voice was the biggest she’d ever seen. It was a look of pleasant astonishment, and it was the best compliment.

Their performance wasn’t perfect; but it was certainly better than any that came before them, earning them applause from the inebriated customers of the bar. They laughed a lot throughout the song, partly from the dramatic lyrics of the ballad but also from the absurdity of them performing at a karaoke bar in Vegas. It was certainly one of the most fun things she’d ever done.

“That stays between us,” Jughead said to her, his expression bright and lively as they headed back to their seats. It struck her again how happy he seemed to be in the last few hours.

“Oh, I wouldn’t share that with the world,” she answered. And she meant it.

They left the karaoke bar two hours later. The performances had progressively gotten worse and worse (but also funnier and funnier) as the sober scale only relied on both of them. After paying up, they headed for Vegas’s most popular street to look for another stop.

It was past 9pm, and the Strip was busy with tourists and Vegas natives alike enjoying the nightlife. The street was so bright; she understood why it was dubbed the City of Lights.

“So what do you want to do next?” he asked her.

“Anything,” she replied. “What do _you_ want to do next?”

He thought for a moment. “Anything,” he said, matching her tone. They didn’t say anything for a while, so they just walked. Even just walking with him was enjoyable.

“Maybe we can just… talk,” she suggested. It was getting late and it probably would’ve been a better idea to drive back to LA, but neither of them suggested it “We can walk this whole street and back.”

“The whole street? That’s a really long walk,” he told her.

She grinned. “We only have time to kill.”

And so they slowly strode for over three hours through the busiest street in Vegas. Sometimes they’d stop to peer inside an establishment or admire the vibrant city, but they frequently were on their feet having one of the longest conversations of their lives.

Betty’s feet were getting wearier and eyelids growing heavier by the second. Still, despite how tired she was, she didn’t want it to end. They discussed asinine things like their favorite food and music and movies until they got to the more nuanced questions, which were just as interesting to discuss.

In those three hours, he became the person who knew her the most. She told him things she never told just anybody – the thoughts that lurked in the crevices of her brain. She wasn’t afraid of his judgment; she knew he would understand and have a witty reply in tow. He understood her in a way nobody else did.

She told him about her difficult relationship with her own family, a topic she didn’t like conferring with other people. He told her about his childhood and his long friendship with Archie and Toni, which she found wholesome. She described how the past years of stagnation had been hard on her. He opened up about the past years of danger had been hard on him. She rambled on and on about the places she wanted to visit, the things on her bucket list, and the dreams she wished she had. He also briefly discussed how he became the leader of the Serpents – his father had gone to prison and the responsibility had befallen him. He didn’t seem too prepared to get into detail just yet, which was fine. Maybe he’d tell her another day.

The more she got to know him, the more she knew with absolute certainty that her feelings weren’t going away. She was still scared, but she mostly forgot all about her uneasiness and allowed herself to lose herself in the moment. Time flew in their long walk, and she didn’t realize it was so late until she saw a clock inside a store.

“Oh my god, it’s past midnight,” she commented. If anything, there were even more people out in the street than a few hours ago. “The Vegas nightlife is really something.”

“Should we head back?” he asked, though in the half-disappointed way he said it, he didn’t seem like he wanted to go back.

She didn’t want to go back, either. She wanted to talk to him longer and to walk the street longer, but the yawn that escaped her was a reminder that Jughead had to drive four hours to LA. “That’s probably the sound idea. Are you sure you can drive?” she asked him. He was definitely the best driver she knew, but sleepiness could attack anyone. She made a mental note to renew her license so she could be of more help in the future.

He nodded. “If I get sleepy, we can probably stop for coffee at the diner.”

Betty fell asleep the ride back. Jughead listened to the radio, trying to wrap his head around the day. He’d done it: a day without running from how he felt. And it was one of the best days of his life. The best in recent years, even.

He was sure that the buffet, the karaoke, and the long walk was just another fun adventure for Betty; but for him, it was a reminder of everything he was holding himself back from. It was bittersweet, to say the least.

It made him sad to think that it was going to be a one-time event. California and all the responsibilities that weighed on him weren’t going to go away because of one day.

He was more sure than he ever was before that being the leader of the Serpents wasn’t the life he wanted.

And maybe it was too soon to say for sure, but the life he wanted was one where Betty was in it. One where he got to know her better every single day. One where he got to see her glowing smile and contagious laugh. One where he got to see the world and live bigger, better, and most of all, happier.

 _Don’t run from how you feel,_ Damian had said.

And maybe what he said was right to a degree.

But he also knew that he was no Damian Torres. Damian had a fallback and could afford to make mistakes. He was untroubled in the grander scheme of things, with money and connections. Jughead was different. He couldn’t just leave the Serpents. He couldn’t do that to everyone who counted on him, not when he’d let down too many people before.

Moreover, he knew that he couldn’t do that to Betty. He could never burden her with the Serpents and the lifestyle he was condemned to live. One day, he knew, when the Ghoulies and Lodge Industries scheme blew over, she’d find somewhere better to go. She’d find a dream to chase, and she’d be gone from his life. She would be the one to see the world and live bigger, better, and most of all, happier.

He decided that it was okay. He’d be happy for her when she did. The day he’d spent with her in the City of Lights was enough.

He had one whole day with Betty Cooper, and it meant everything. He’d keep it with him forever.

They stopped at 2:30 am at the diner when Jughead was just beginning to feel drowsy. She was letting out a quiet snore when he turned off the engine, her head resting on her palm while her elbow rested on the door. She looked so rested, he didn’t want to wake her up.

“Hey, Betty,” he said softly, and when she didn’t awake, he lightly shook her shoulder. “Sorry to wake you, but I kind of need coffee.”

She slowly woke up and he saw her green eyes blink heavily at him. “Sure,” she said with a smile.

She fell asleep again at the diner, her forehead flat atop her folded arms so all he could see was her braided hair already slightly undone. It was the most silent and tired he’d ever seen her, and he couldn’t help but smile as he drank two cups of black coffee.

Just a little over twelve hours ago, he remembered, they were here at the diner with Damian at the exact same booth. So much could change a person in only half a day, he realized. So much.

They were almost back at Serpent headquarters when sunrise began. Dawn came to light and the sky turning a deep orange, rising above the clouds. He’d always liked driving alone when there was no traffic and the streets were quiet, but he realized he liked driving with Betty so much more. Even if she liked the radio turned on and snored in her sleep.

She woke up the same time the sun did. She stretched her arms above her head and hit the roof of the car. She let out a loud yawn and turned to him. “Wow. We’re almost back already,” she said. “Sorry I didn’t keep you awake. Did you get sleepy?”

He did get sleepy. But the coffee from the diner, his pack of mints, and his endless stream of consciousness in his head were enough to get him by.

He shook his head. “I was fine. Did you sleep well?” But he already knew the answer from the constant sound of her snores.

“Yes I did,” she answered brightly. She smiled, the sunlight hitting her face. She picked up his pack of mints and popped two candies in her mouth, her head swaying to the song on the radio.

It was the same song that had played when they left LA yesterday morning.

_Take me out and take me home…_

He used to wonder how anybody could be a morning person, but now he realized that it wasn’t even 6 am yet and he was already in a good mood. Because of her.

He smiled to himself.

They arrived at the Serpent building’s parking area at 6:15 am, Los Angeles City only barely awake. They got out of the car and Betty felt a little wobbly from having slept for hours in the Corolla. She looked at herself through the window and smoothed down her dress. She untied her braid, letting her hair loose as she ran her fingers through the tangled strands. Through that while, Jughead eyed at her without saying a word.

She smiled at him. “Why are you looking at me?” she asked, bashful.

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, looking away before immediately making a double-take, as if something was forcing him to look at her. The early morning sun painted his face a light gold, and she was taken back to yesterday’s golden hour when she realized she was falling for him.

His gaze was still light and peaceful, but there was determination in it, too. It was as if he was caught up in a trance, or taken aback by whatever she was doing. He slowly walked towards her so they were both standing on her side of the car, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Then it was as if she fell into a stupor, too.

She took in all of him: his dark, slightly unkempt hair, his blue eyes, his timid smile. God, she wanted to kiss him. The moment was perfect: sunrise in an empty parking lot right after their unplanned trip to Vegas. The desire surged through her so quickly it was overwhelming. _Kiss him._

His gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips, and she was almost sure that he wanted to kiss her, too.

Her pulse sped up and the temperature rose dramatically. Was he going to kiss her?

Betty took in a soft breath, letting her eyelids fall shut. Her mind was racing. He was going to kiss her.

She felt his hand tilt her chin up tenderly, his head only inches from hers. His palm held the side of her face, cupping her left cheek the same way someone touched a delicate, breakable object. _He was going to kiss her._

She felt the heat from his mouth fanning her own. Her heartbeat was going crazy. And just as their lips barely brushed – a quick, microscopic trace of his lips on hers – the sound of a loud muffler speeding inside the parking area interrupted them, and they ripped apart from each other faster than a blink.

Betty shot her eyes opened and turned her head to see a hot pink convertible pull up beside them, a pretty girl in the front seat driving alone. She got out of the car, eyeing Jughead confidently as she slammed her door shut behind her. Jughead looked just as caught off-guard as Betty was.

Her first thought was that the girl looked like a brunette Elle Woods, from her pink velvet dress down to the pink stilettos. The girl, however, ignored Betty and focused her attention on Jughead completely. The gaze she gave him was so intense that Betty wasn’t sure if it was murderous or carnal. Maybe both.

Jughead took a heavy breath beside Betty, his face unreadable as he looked at the girl. “Delilah,” he greeted her, breathless, but his voice was serious and controlled.

Delilah as in _Delilah Grande?_ The CEO of Grande Enterprises? What was she doing here?

 _“Juggie,”_ the girl began, voice sweet but unapologetic. _Juggie?_ Betty felt her heart drop and chest tighten at the endearing nickname she used on him. “We need to talk.”


	10. "Come find me."

Betty’s hands had inadvertently curled into fists at her sides. Delilah stood a few feet away from them, eyes trained so hard on Jughead as if Betty wasn’t even there. Betty knew that jealousy was an ugly look, but she couldn’t help but feel that Delilah’s arrival was a deliberate decision by the universe to piss her off.

Betty knew she was flushed red and appeared far from intimidating – but she did her best to keep her chin up.

“It’s six in the morning,” Jughead said to her, sounding almost exasperated.

She nodded with a smug smile. Delilah was clearly wealthy and powerful, telling from the clothes and the car and how she commanded attention without any effort. “I know, Juggie. But who can blame me? I haven’t seen you in two weeks. I’ve missed you,” she replied, voice honeyed. _Missed him?_ What the hell did that mean?

Delilah finally turned to Betty. “And who’s this little cutie?” she asked as if Betty was a child. Betty didn’t look threatening, especially in her green sundress – but she hadn’t expected to be talked down to.

Betty put on her best and fakest smile and stepped forward. “I’m Betty,” she introduced herself confidently, extending her hand.

Instead of shaking Betty’s hand, she only eyed her palm. “And I’m guessing you’re a new member because you should know that my coming here means I only want to speak to _one_ person,” she told her before turning to Jughead. “ _Juggie,_ perhaps you can tell this girl to leave so we can speak in private?”

Jughead’s face was unreadable. He took a deep breath. “Let’s go inside first-”

“No, no,” Delilah said with the small shake of her head. She leaned into the door of her pink convertible. “We’re talking right here, right now,” she continued in a quietly demanding tone. “I dropped by yesterday and Toni said you were at an unplanned outing – very out of character, by the way – so I decided to come first thing this morning.”

“For what, exactly?”

“I’m severely disappointed in you, Juggie. I mean, after all we’ve been through, and you’re still not letting me in,” she said.

Betty hated how she called him _Juggie_ and implied she and Jughead had a history. Then it hit her: _Did they have a history?_

Jughead closed his eyes for a few seconds before turning to Betty, his face indiscernible. “Sorry, but can you give us a moment, Betty? I’ll be inside in a few minutes,” he said to her. He spoke to her clinically, as if he barely knew her. As if they weren’t just about to kiss a minute ago.

Or maybe it hadn’t meant anything to him.

Her throat felt stiff. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t astonished – because the way he’d spoken to her was more startling than Delilah’s sudden arrival. She tried to ignore how it tugged on her chest as she nodded curtly at Jughead and Delilah and turned her heel, walking inside the empty _Whyte Wyrm_ and upstairs.

There were only a few people awake and roaming the corridors. Hopefully, she’d find someone to talk to at the early hour. A distraction would be nice.

She ran into Archie holding what looked to be a protein shake in the hallway. He was in workout clothes and had earphones plugged in. “Oh, you’re back,” he greeted her, removing his left earplug. “Where’s Jughead? How did the trip to Vegas go?” he asked, smiling.

“Archie, who is Delilah?” she asked him abruptly. She already knew: Delilah Grande, CEO of Grande Enterprises. But she needed to hear a confirmation.

He seemed surprised that she didn’t immediately jump into the highlights of the Vegas trip. “Our biggest client, why?” he answered, raising an eyebrow.

Betty crossed her arms over her chest. She knew that much already since she was hired to dig up dirt on Grande Enterprises six months ago – but it made no sense to her why she would be here and why she needed to be alone with him.

“Why is she in the parking lot and why does she call Jughead ‘Juggie’?” she asked. Betty knew she was being transparent in how fired up she was, but she was too caught up in her emotions that she didn’t bother trying to hide it.

“What? She came back already?” he said, shaking his head with irritation. “You met her?”

“Unfortunately,” Betty replied bitterly.

Archie laughed. “I had the same reaction when I met her. She’s the girl version of Greg, to put it that way – very prideful and obsessed with her job. The only difference is she’s actually good at it. She’s also _really_ into with Jughead. And I mean _really._ ”

Betty’s heart dropped. That wasn’t comforting at all. “Really into him?” she repeated.

He nodded. “She’s always looking for ways to talk to her. Actually, right before he met you, he was closing a deal with her. He was driving back here when you got into his car.”

 _Oh._ The reason Jughead was even driving that Tuesday morning was because of Delilah? Was it a cruel joke by destiny for Delilah to show up at the worst possible moment?

Betty took a deep breath. She wondered if Jughead harbored any feelings for Delilah in return, but it made her head spin to even consider it. “But why is she even here?” she questioned.

“She came here yesterday pissed because Jughead didn’t tell her about the Ghoulies and Lodge Industries going after us,” Archie said with an eye roll. “Jughead always has to remind that just because she’s a client, it doesn’t mean she’s entitled to all of our business. She never trusts other members to close deals with her, either, which is frustrating as hell. But whatever – money is money, and she’s loaded.”

Betty nodded. “Where are you off to?”

“The gym,” he replied. “Do you want to come?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, but no, thank you. I’ll have breakfast instead.”

Jughead wasn’t sure if Delilah’s arrival was the best or worst timing. Worst because he had almost kissed Betty. But also the best because he had almost kissed Betty.

He had been so caught up in the moment; he had completely lost the thoughts, words, and rationality he was so sure he had only seconds before and decided against his better judgment to move closer to her.

Then he had heard the familiar sound of Delilah Grande’s convertible, and it had made him remember that whatever feelings he had for her were doomed from the very beginning.

It didn’t matter that they were standing so close, that he was holding her face in his palm, that this was the closest they’d ever been before.

It didn’t matter that Betty looked as though she wanted to kiss him, too.

They could never happen. Not in an imperfect world.

He’d told Betty to leave in a way that would hopefully dismiss what had almost transpired, but it drove him crazy when he saw how upset she looked. He’d have to figure out a way to downplay what happened later, he realized – even if their almost-kiss had been the opposite of trivial to him.

Now he stood alone in the parking lot with Delilah Grande. He never liked her, but he’d be lying if he said her timing wasn’t impeccable. After all, her demanding to see him those two weeks ago was precisely why he met Betty.

“I didn’t realize you had a new member,” Delilah remarked, tossing her car keys in the front seat. “She looks so… harmless.”

If only she knew that Betty was a hacker who had outrun danger not once, not twice, but _thrice_ in the past two weeks.

“She isn’t harmless, believe me,” he said, unable to stop the small smile that climbed onto his face just at the mention of Betty. _Get a grip, Jughead._

“Let’s get straight to the point, shall we?” he continued more seriously. “Why are you here?”

“Juggie,” she said, in the same sugarcoated tone she always used on him. “I think you know why.”

“Be more specific. You show up here for all sorts of reasons,” he said, leaning on the door of his own car. He recalled the last time he’d seen Delilah, just before he met Betty. They were closing a weapons deal at the Blue Mahogany, and she insisted that she needed Jughead to drive all the way there to convince her of the security of the supply.

He’d been so irritated that day; he had wanted to key her car. Delilah was their most frustrating client and she never failed to make a deal go south at the last minute. Looking back, though, the only significant thing he remembered from that Tuesday morning was when a certain girl had hopped into his car.

“I’m disappointed in you. We’ve been partners for half a year,” she told him. “You don’t think I deserve to know that the Ghoulies and Lodge Industries are after you?”

So _that_ was she was mad about.

Delilah was always poking and trying to get involved in Serpent business, which vexed him because it didn’t concern her at all. As long as their transactions continued, she had no good reason to be so nosy.

“ _Partners_ is a strong word,” he told her, reiterating to her for the nth time of their place in each other’s lives. “And no, I don’t think you deserve to know any of that. You’re a client and I’m your associate. I don’t know why you keep insisting we owe you a deep-dive look into what we’re up to.”

“Because your business is my business,” she said, as if her answer was the most obvious in the world. “And Juggie,” she went on, and Jughead almost told her off for the ridiculous nickname, “You know you’re so much more to me than an associate.”

He threw his head back, exasperated. “Except I shouldn’t be. We have nothing in common besides business. Our meetings are purely transactional-”

“Oh please. You and I are so similar,” she interrupted harshly. “You became the leader of this gang and I became the CEO of the family business when we were teenagers. We’re both very busy and hardworking people. I don’t see why you keep insisting there’s nothing to bring us together, when there always is.”

Jughead knew that in that right, they _were_ similar. Delilah’s parents had died two years ago in an accident when she was only 19, so she had to take responsibility for Grande Enterprises and grow up quickly. Still, he didn’t get why that mattered. The last thing he needed was someone on the exact same boat as him.

“I don’t know where you’re going with that, Delilah. So what do you want?”

She looked stumped, as if she wasn’t sure what she wanted, either. “I don’t know. But I was expecting… something.”

“Expecting what?”

“I don’t know, Juggie. An apology?” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. For the first time, she appeared defeated. “I keep expecting something to change between us. But I’m always wrong.”

She _was_ wrong.

“I’m not sorry I didn’t tell you and I never will be. We were still able to conduct business as usual these past few weeks, correct? You got your deliveries, we got our cut,” he told her sharply. “End of story. If something truly goes wrong in our gang, then we’ll let you know. Until then, know your boundaries.”

She thought for a moment, biting her lip and trying to come to terms with what he’d told her.

“Okay, message received,” she said, face to the floor as she nodded. Delilah shot her head to look at him. “But what if I told you I could help?”

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. Delilah? Offering help? That was uncharacteristic. “Help? With what?”

“I have useful information,” she said to him. “And I can keep being a source of information. I bet your informants don’t have my means. I’ll give it to you on one very simple condition.”

He nodded, giving her the benefit of the doubt. “Let’s hear it.”

“I want to be more than a client,” she said, looking at him steadily. “And no, I’m not asking you to date me,” she added hastily. “I just… I want to play a bigger part in the Serpents. I realize that’s a lot to ask because I hardly knew my place these last few months, and I’m sorry for that. I respect you and your gang, and it’s why I’ve been so insufferable. I wanted you all to respect me, too.”

He realized it was a good and sensible explanation for why she was the way she was. She was young, and Jughead realized he was holding her to a higher standard than other clients simply because of her position. But she was only 21, capable of making immature decisions like anyone at that age.

If only he could cut himself the same slack, because he held himself to the highest standard there was.

“You don’t have to worry about us respecting you,” he told her. “You may drive us crazy with demands, but for the record, we respect you. We wouldn’t do this many deals with you if we didn’t. And it’s not easy being CEO of a million-dollar enterprise at 21. I can imagine a lot of people doubt you enough.”

“Thank you.” She nodded, a small smirk on her lips. “So? Are you okay with that condition?”

He still didn’t understand why she cared so much about being involved with the Serpents, but he decided it was a good deal. “Okay,” he answered. “From now on, we won’t keep you in the dark – but we won’t tell you every single thing. How about that?”

“That’s enough for me.” They shook on it.

“So what information do you have?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Hiram Lodge is coming to town next week,” she declared. “He’ll be staying at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Do what you will with that information.”

Jughead narrowed his eyes at her. “For what reason?”

She shrugged. “No idea. I was going to tell you yesterday, but you were apparently in Vegas,” she told him. “And I was going to grill you on why you were there, but I realize it’s none of my concern. Was that helpful?”

He nodded. “It was, thanks.”

“Good. I have plenty of meetings to attend today, so I won’t bother you further,” she said, opening her car door.

He called back to her. “Just one question,” he said. She turned to look at him. “Why do you care about our gang so much? You have many connections you could invest your time and effort into – so why us?”

She thought for a second before answering. “The same reason you’re so invested in that Betty girl,” she replied simply.

Jughead blinked. “What? I-”

 _“Please,”_ she cut him off briskly. “It was all over your red face when I drove here. You could barely look at her. You _like_ her. More than like, even.”

Well, fuck. He didn’t know he was _that_ obvious. He sighed, resigned. “So what’s the reason?” he asked her.

Delilah smiled, getting into her car. “Plot twist is that there is no reason. Sometimes, we just get invested and we can’t help it despite every rational thought that tells us to do otherwise,” she explained, closing her eyes for a moment before speaking again. “The rumors are true – I _am_ into you, and I know you know that. All the Serpents know that. I understand that my feelings aren’t reciprocated, which I’ll learn to be fine with.”

It was the first time she openly admitted it – and even if he knew it already, it was surprising to see how blatant she was. He couldn’t imagine confessing how _he_ felt to Betty so casually.

“We can’t control our emotions, Jughead,” she continued, shutting the car door. For the first time, she wasn’t calling him _Juggie_ to which he was grateful _._ “We just have to deal with them.”

He looked at her blankly, unsure of what to make of her words. He didn’t think dealing with his emotions was the way to go.

“Oh, and a little tip?” she continued, a small smile on her face. “She likes you, too. Do you know how rare that is? Don’t screw it up.”

The pink convertible drove off before he could make out a reply.

First Damian, now Delilah. Why was he getting the same advice from the most unexpected people? Since when were they more perceptive than he thought? They were both surprisingly in touch with their romantic feelings and provided him declarations of clarity that puzzled him even more.

Maybe he needed to stop thinking he knew everyone well – including himself.

Betty sat alone in the communal hall, her usual appetite failing her. She could barely finish the small amount of scrambled eggs on her plate as she thought about what could possibly be going on in the parking lot. What if Jughead and Delilah were confessing their hidden love? French kissing? Doing _more_ than French kissing? She shuddered. She knew they obviously weren’t, but it still bothered her.

 _Can you give us a moment, Betty?_ she’d said. She wanted to rip Delilah’s smug smile off her face.

Delilah was pretty. No, that wasn’t the word for her. She was gorgeous. Elegant. The CEO of Grande Enterprises, which, from what Betty knew, wasn’t only a crime organization that the Ghoulies wanted dirt on. It was also a corporation worth millions: selling car parts and, more recently, weapons.

It wasn’t that Betty thought Delilah was better than her – competing with other women in the 21st century was a big no-no in her book. Betty wasn’t going to compare herself to her – she respected Delilah and how she managed to keep such a large (and illegal) business afloat despite being her age.

But Delilah was a slap in the face in the sense that _she_ knew Jughead longer. She was a reminder that matter how hard Betty tried, she couldn’t rewrite her place in Jughead’s history.

She’d only known him for two weeks. _Two weeks!_ She wasn’t a part of his world. Not completely, anyway. Even if she wanted to be or if she was starting to be, Delilah already had a head start.

 _Can you give us a moment, Betty?_ the words played again. _Us._

“Betty, hey,” she heard Jughead say behind her, his tone back to being gentle. So _now_ he wanted to speak to her in a nice way? He looked on edge as he sat across her, placing his tray of food in front of him. “Sorry about that earlier. Delilah had a _lot_ to say. I scheduled an inner circle meeting in Veronica’s room at eight so we could discuss what she told me.”

Betty stood up, carrying her tray and allowing herself the luxury of being petty. Did he think that bringing up Delilah first over the kiss that didn’t happen would be a good idea? _Fine._ She’d be indifferent then, too. “I’m done eating, sorry. I need to shower, talk to you later,” she told him hastily, trying to imitate the clinical tone he’d used on her in the parking lot.

His gaze shifted from confusion to slight disappointment. “Oh. Sure, okay,” he replied, his face falling. He tried to search for something in her expression, but Betty wasn’t going to give anything to him. “Will you be at the meeting?” he asked, and he said it so timidly she almost sat back down and hugged him, but she remembered that he’d told her to leave right after he almost kissed her and decided he probably would find that weird.

“Of course, _Juggie_ ,” Betty said, mildly spiteful as she stalked away.

Jughead was fully aware that he fucked up.

After eating, showering, making the morning announcements, and being heavily interrogated by Cheryl and Toni (“ _You spontaneously went to Vegas with a girl you met two weeks ago?”, “Are you sure you aren’t in love, Jones?”,_ and _“Tell us everything, Jones”_ were just some of what they’d prompted, to which he gave vague and clipped answers _),_ Jughead decided to muster up the courage to talk to Betty.

He was so exhausted and was sure he was going to pass out in the hallway. He battled fatigue, though, because he needed to defuse the situation. He needed to apologize and to clear things up with Betty.

Jughead stopped in front of her door, straightening his white t-shirt and running a hand through his hair. He hoped he looked presentable, but the bags under his eyes probably begged to disagree.

He knocked, praying to god that it would turn out fine. The door swung open revealing Betty in jean shorts and _the_ shirt – the same pink cactus shirt she was wearing when he’d met her.

_Don’t be a prick._

He was trying really hard not to be.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asked her.

Her big green eyes considered him before opening the door wider. “Sure,” she said coolly.

Her room was pink. _Very_ pink. Veronica truly outdid herself in the two days she had to decorate Betty’s room. Her bedsheets were a light rose shade and Jonesy, her giant rabbit stuffed toy, sat front and center. Jonesy looked almost accusatory at Jughead. _How dare you walk in here,_ the rabbit’s dull, dead eyes seemed to be saying to him.

“It’s nice,” he complimented, his weak smile doing nothing to cut the sharp look she returned.

Betty sat on her bed and brought her knees to her chest, looking at him expectantly. “So? What did you want to talk about?” she questioned chirpily. It wasn’t the usual genuine Betty-esque chirpy, though. This one was nearly menacing. Purposefully cheerful.

Jughead pulled the chair from her desk and sat down to face her. “Well, uh – about earlier, at the parking lot… I’m sorry,” he told her.

“For what?” she asked, and he was pretty sure she was feigning ignorance.

“I told you to leave right after I…” he began. _Tried to kiss you?_ It seemed so crass to say.

He paused to try to find the words. “Look,” he went on, “there’s no excuse for what I did. I was caught up in the moment, and I didn’t- It didn’t mean what you think- what you think it meant.”

 _Liar._ He was a stammering liar. He’d meant to kiss her. Wholeheartedly.

Betty stared at him, face blank. She gulped. “So… you didn’t actually mean to kiss me?” she repeated, her voice smaller and shakier all of a sudden. She looked confused. Disappointed.

He wanted to take it back. But he knew she could handle a little disappointment. It wasn’t like whatever feelings she harbored for him were intense, anyway. It was maybe a tiny crush, probably much less than that, even. Maybe _she_ had been caught up in the moment.

Soon, when she was safe, she’d leave his life. She’d get over it.

The reminder blinked in his head one more time: _They could never happen. Not in an imperfect world._

But if taking it back was the right thing to do, why did it feel so wrong?

He shook his head, pulling up the mask again. He had to be the Jughead he was the first time he’d met her – cold and calculating.

What would cold and calculating Jughead do? _He’d be direct._

“I didn’t mean to kiss you,” he told her, resolute. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t slept in over a day and we’d just spent a whole day and night together… that has to have some kind of psychological effect, right?” he continued, rationalizing the situation even though he didn’t mean at all what he was saying. “I don’t know what came over me. Maybe I was half-dreaming or being plain stupid, but either way, I was in the wrong. It’s actually a good thing Delilah showed up – she brought me to my senses. There’s nothing between us, and there never will be. I’m sorry for any confusion I caused you.”

Betty bit her lip, looking away. “Oh,” she said, face disillusioned and voice microscopic. She didn’t say anything for a while before she turned to him. “That’s… that’s fine,” she affirmed, nodding quickly. “I get it. Apology accepted. You must be so exhausted. You should probably sleep right after the meeting.”

She was already changing the topic. That was a good thing, right? He nodded. “I’ll take a long nap for sure…” he replied, laughing lightly. “So we’re good?” he asked her.

She gave him a small smile. “Of course,” she answered, but there was still something guarded on her face that he couldn’t discern. “I didn’t get to thank you, by the way. For yesterday. I know Vegas isn’t your style, but it means a lot that you turned the car around and indulged me the whole night.”

He couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah, of course. It was fun.”

“Who is Delilah, anyway? I mean, I know who she is. But what did you two talk about?” she prompted quickly.

“She offered to help with the Hiram Lodge situation,” he replied. “We’ll talk about it in the meeting.”

She nodded. “Archie says she’s into you,” she blurted out, surprising him. “Did you know?”

Betty talked to Archie about Delilah? Why and how did they get to the topic of Delilah’s feelings for him? “I know, yes,” he replied.

Her face remained unreadable and pensive, but her eyes scanned him intently. “Do you think that… anything could ever happen between both of you? Like… do you think you could like her, too?” she inquired slowly.

 _No._ Never in a million years could he ever like Delilah Grande.

But Betty needed to hear the other answer. She needed to hear the answer that would shut down whatever was going on between them.

Kill the spark, then there would be no flame to worry about.

He nodded, even if it hurt him to lie. “Yes, I think I could.”

Betty felt like a monumental idiot.

She drowned out the first half of the meeting, which was fine since it was pretty much a recap of what happened with Damian and Delilah and a discussion of strategy. Betty couldn’t be bothered because, to reiterate the previous point, she felt like a monumental idiot.

 _I didn’t mean to kiss you._ Of course he didn’t. He’d been awake for more than 24 hours and they were under the most romantic pretenses: spontaneous getaway, all-nighter, post-road trip… He was right – those had some kind of psychological effects on a guy, right?

It didn’t mean he had feelings for her.

It didn’t matter that Betty had feelings for him. He said it best himself: _There’s nothing between us, and there never will be._

“… she said that Hiram Lodge is going to be in town at the Beverly Hills Hotel next week,” Jughead was telling them, and Betty snapped her attention to the discussion, which she had remained completely silent throughout. Hiram Lodge was going to be _where?_

“What the hell. Why?” Veronica reacted, anger filling her face. She took a deep breath to calm down. “I thought he was leaving Nick to handle us.”

“He’s doubting him – as he should,” Jughead said. “But this means we’re going to have to act fast the moment Damian infiltrates the Ghoulies. It’s a gamble to rely on that alone to get what we want, but it’s all we have.”

“Or maybe we shouldn’t rely on that alone,” Veronica suggested suddenly, and everyone turned their heads to look at her. “My father’s going to be in town. We can see it as a threat… _or_ we can use it to our advantage.”

“What do you mean?” Archie asked.

She gave him a long look before replying. “I don’t know. What if I talked to him?”

Archie’s face immediately fell. “Are you serious?”

Cheryl and Toni gave each other a silent, knowing look. Betty wasn’t sure what the specifics were in the case of Veronica and her father, but clearly it was a sensitive topic.

Veronica, however, nodded surely. “I’m serious, Archie. I mean, it’s worth a shot, right? He’s doing this because of _me._ I might have a shot at… I don’t know, at the very least, getting some information out of him. Maybe I can even convince him to stop.”

“Ronnie, you can’t just put that on yourself,” Archie began, “It’s only been two years. You said you never wanted to see him again-”

“I know what I said. But that was until he became a real threat again,” she interrupted.

“It’s not your job to keep fighting him,” he argued. The conversation was delicate and seemed to only be between them – as if Archie understood her in a way nobody else did.

“I can handle it,” Veronica insisted. “I’m not changing my mind. I’ve been thinking about it lately – I _want_ to see him and tell him exactly what I’m feeling. Maybe it’ll do something,” she finished, resolute.

Archie considered her words before nodding. “Alright. If you say so. I’ll support you. We all will, won’t we, guys? It’s brave, but just… don’t do anything you don’t want to, okay? If you change your mind, you can. You don’t have to see him. Ever.”

She nodded. “I know, Archie. Thank you for always looking out for me.”

Betty still didn’t understand how they weren’t together. Then again, she wasn’t such a good judge of romantic feelings. She’d totally misread Jughead.

She got lost in thought again as she kept replaying his words over and over. _There’s nothing between us, and there never will be._

She only realized she had feelings for him yesterday, and yet his statement had stung her way more than it should have.

_Focus on the meeting, Betty._

“… I’d appreciate it if you all came for moral support,” Veronica said.

“Of course we will,” Archie said. “Won’t we, guys?”

“Actually… about that,” Cheryl said, placing a hand over Toni’s as her expression became grave. “Toni and I are going to D.C. next week. To visit my family. My mother’s… gotten worse, to put it lightly. And I’m ready to see her again. To say my goodbyes.” Toni squeezed her girlfriend’s hand and nodded for her to continue.

“Cheryl, we’re so sorry,” Veronica said.

Cheryl smiled sadly. “It’s alright. I’ve come to terms with… everything. We never had the best relationship – but closure would be nice. Also, I don’t know if this is the best timing to say, but Toni and I will be leaving the Serpents. Not right away – we’ll be here for as long as we’re needed. But I think we’re ready to move forward. I mean, it’s long overdue. But there was always an excuse. We realized, though, that if we really want something, there should be no room for excuses. If we’re ready to leave, we’re ready to leave.”

Betty noticed that Toni looked at Jughead the whole time as if she was waiting for him to react. After all, Betty was aware that Toni and Jughead had been friends for a very long time. Jughead’s expression was unreadable as he nodded

“Yes, of course,” he said to them, a small smile on his face as he began to assure them that it was fine. That _he_ was fine. The empty look in his eyes, however, made Betty sure he wasn’t.

After the meeting, Jughead locked himself in his room and told everyone not to disturb him.

 _Sleep._ That was what he needed. He couldn’t be sad if he was asleep.

And yet that whole afternoon, he couldn’t so much as close his eyes for more than a second. As he lay down in his bed, staring at the ceiling, too many thoughts filled his head. He felt terrible. Beyond his exhaustion and the fact that Betty hadn’t said anything to him (or said anything at all for that matter), he felt an overwhelming sense of _trap._ How long until Archie decided to drop everything and follow his dream in New York? How long until Veronica figured her life out and left the Serpents, too? How long until one by one, everyone he cared about left his life?

The past few years had only been bearable because he wasn’t completely alone. He liked to think he was self-sufficient – but the cold truth was that he needed his friends like he needed air. The even colder truth was that they wouldn’t always need _him._ One day, they’d find a better life and he wasn’t going to stop them. He’d have to be okay with it.

It was why he knew he had to stay away from Betty. She was going to leave eventually. There was no point letting her in even if he wanted to.

Jughead thought about the Vegas trip again, and how he and Betty had talked for hours along the Strip without realizing so much time had passed. She’d made him feel like a completely different person – and yet that person wasn’t a stranger. It was the same Jughead, but free of the weight of his world.

He found himself opening the bottom of his bedside’s drawer and picking up his old leather journal. He hadn’t touched it in forever: a culmination of all the thoughts in stupid teenager Jughead’s brain and the words of a novel he had forgotten long ago.

He opened it and could barely recognize his penmanship. Lazy but passionate scribbles written in ink, filling the pages in all directions and leaving barely any whites. When was the last time he wrote as though it was the end of the world?

 _One day I’ll be free of this madness and leave Los Angeles. I won’t succumb to the wishes of my dad or the realities of this fate being pushed onto me. I’ll be free to make my own narrative. I’ll move to New York City and become a writer…_ God, his musings were fervent and pretentious. Still, Jughead found himself smiling as he read the words. He had been so resolute on leaving. But so much had changed.

He cringed when he read things like, _I despise Archie’s obsession with girls. He has all the luxury in the world to have hopes and dreams bigger than getting Valerie Brown to go on a date with him. Alas, he’s occupied himself in the pursuit of falling in love at the not-so-ripe age of sixteen. It’s awful…_ Still, he admired how in-touch he had been with his feelings.

Instead of the nap, Jughead poured hours into reading every last word in the very last journal he’d kept before everything went wrong. He took his time that afternoon absorbing every phrase, remembering whatever moment had occurred along with it. This Jughead was completely different from grown-up Jughead, and yet it was more _him_ than the last few years had ever been.

When he’d gotten to the last filled page, he was struck by how straightforward and frank his final entry was: _I’m done with people giving me reasons as to why I should stay in LA and become the leader of the Serpents. It isn’t what I want – simple as that. I want to leave, and no other reason is too big or too rational to get in the way of that. What other reasons do I need? The answer is none. I want what I want. That reason is and always will be enough._

If only it were that simple.

He thought of green eyes, her smile, and the sound of her voice.

He thought of Cheryl's words: _if we really want something, there should be no room for excuses._

Maybe it _could_ be that simple.

In that moment, Jughead came to a very weighty yet very simple realization.

Jughead checked the time: 7:30 pm.

He left his room.

He knocked on Betty’s door. No answer. He tried Veronica’s room. No avail. He headed downstairs and found Archie behind the bar counter at the _Wyrm._ “Hey, man, how was your nap?” his best friend asked over the loud music playing.

“Have you seen Betty?” Jughead asked quickly.

He nodded. “Oh, yeah. She went out for a walk like, ten minutes ago.”

“What? Like, alone? Did she say where?” he asked, heat rising to his face.

“Yeah, alone,” he replied. “She didn’t say where. Did you want to talk to her, or-”

“Archie, in case you’ve forgotten, the Ghoulies are after her,” Jughead cut him off heatedly, unable to hide the anger in his voice. What had Archie been thinking? “She could be in danger – fuck, Archie. She shouldn’t leave the building alone. Especially at night.”

His best friend frowned, realizing it, too. “Shit, it totally slipped my mind. I’m sorry. She left so fast that it hadn’t even occurred to me-”

“I’ll deal with you later,” he interrupted, shooting Archie a glare.

He picked up his phone and dialed Betty’s number.

_A walk._ That was what she needed. She couldn’t spiral if she was walking.

Betty was walking to a very specific place – one that would hopefully give her some form of clarity. Maybe even a sign from the universe.

The sun was setting as Betty compared how different her life was now to her life two weeks ago. Her worry back then was that maybe her life was too dull, and yet now, considering the amalgam of emotions she was feeling, she’d pay big money to calm the hell down for even a second.

Her phone began to ring in her pocket. Caller ID: _Jughead._

 _No,_ she did not need to talk to him right now. Her finger hovered over the _decline_ button, but she picked up the call, anyway, against her better judgment.

“Hello?”

“Betty, thank god,” his voice returned. His tone was full of relief. Why was he relieved? It wasn’t like she’d run away. “I told you the day after we met not to leave the building,” he continued abruptly. “At least, not alone. Where are you?”

She remembered he _did_ say that. “Jug, I’m fine. I’ll be back in an hour, tops,” she said.

“Betty, it’s nighttime. People could be after you,” he replied, exasperated. “Just tell me where you are, please?”

He sounded so worried it made her dizzy. Did he _have_ to show concern for her every second of every day? Did he have any idea how that made her feel? It made her head spin and her pulse freak. It was almost inconsiderate.

“I’m not going to tell you,” she told him simply.

Betty knew she was being unnecessarily distant, considering it wasn’t Jughead’s fault he didn’t have feelings for her. _But still._ She was allowing herself a little irrationality. She was going through a situation she’d never experienced before.

“I need to talk to you,” he suddenly blurted out.

Betty froze, her hands growing cold. Talk? _About what?_

“Can’t that wait?” she asked.

“No, it can’t,” he said, determined.

“Come find me,” she found herself saying. “I’ll be going to a specific place. You have to guess.”

What was she doing? Why was she being so ambiguous? She had no idea. All she knew was that there was something in his voice that was telling her she had to talk to him, too. Maybe she was reading into it, or maybe she was right. Either way, her heart was fluttering.

“Want a hint?” she asked when he didn’t reply right away.

He remained silent for a few more seconds. “I already know where,” he answered vaguely before ending the call.

Jughead was walking so fast he was practically running. He arrived at the place fifteen minutes later.

He was running on no sleep and the fuel of his realization, but he had never felt more alive.

Then, finally, he saw her.

She was standing next to the stoplight in the same street he had gotten stuck in traffic and she’d gotten into his car. She was in the pink cactus shirt, arms crossed over her chest, her hair blowing in the wind, and she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

It had been a little under two weeks, and yet he felt so differently it seemed impossible.

He walked to her, and when she finally saw him, she smiled at him brightly.

What game had they been playing the past two days? In pretending that there was nothing between them, they both lost.

“How did you know this was the place?” she questioned. But of course he knew.

Jughead smiled back. He knew what he had to do.

It didn’t matter that they were in the middle of a crowded street in LA, that people were going to look, that he’d never done anything like this in his life.

It didn’t matter that he knew that they were doomed from the start.

Because his realization earlier was this: They _could_ happen. Even in an imperfect world.

Just for a minute. And maybe a little more.

Betty couldn’t believe Jughead knew what place she had been referring to. How could it be – that she’d misread their almost-kiss and yet he knew exactly where she was going? How were they on the same page and yet in completely different books?

She realized he was wearing the exact same thing he’d been wearing when she first met him – a white shirt, blue jeans. Even his sleeves were rolled up.

They were wearing the exact same clothes, standing in the exact same street, and yet they weren’t the exact same people. Or at least, _she_ wasn’t the exact same person.

She didn’t know why Jughead wasn’t saying anything to her. He only looked at her, his blue eyes aglow. There was something different on his face – some sort of determination he didn’t have before.

“So what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked. “Because, I mean, you could’ve just waited for me to come back instead of walking _all the way_ here unless, of course, it’s something very important you have to say-”

She was interrupted, however, when he took her face in his hands and kissed her, and she ultimately forgot what she had been rambling about.

Her first thought was that this was most certainly the best kiss she’d ever had and she wasn’t even kissing him back yet. And then her thoughts faded away altogether as she closed her eyes.

Her hands wrapped around his neck as she pulled him closer, feeling his soft lips on hers. His mouth was hot, his fingers holding her face ever-so-gently. Every sense in her amplified and it occurred to her why people said kissing felt like fireworks. Because this kiss was explosive, making her hyper-aware of every sense and nerve in her body.

She pulled him even closer, feeling the rest of his body against hers. They were so in-sync, and no words were needed for Betty to know exactly what Jughead was meaning to say: that he had been lying earlier, that he’d meant to kiss her, that Delilah wasn’t even in the picture, and that most importantly, he was falling for her, too.

And when the kiss ended, the sun had set completely and the dark of the night engulfed them. Both of them stood breathless and passersby shot them weird looks. The street was lit up and the traffic was dreadful. But Betty was sure that if she dropped dead in that very instant, she’d be okay with it.

So much could happen in two days: a spontaneous road trip, a hefty realization, a perfect kiss, and everything in-between.

She opened her eyes to look at him, his blue eyes not looking away for even a split-second. They refused to let go of each other and instead remained completely transfixed.

How perfect it was to be on the same page, in the exact same book.


	11. “Not my shiniest moment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I’m sorry this update took so long. I had a really hard time writing this one :( I hope it turned out okay. I can’t wait for the last four chapters!!!! Thank you again for the comments and kudos. The support means everything <3 - Erin

The days following the kiss flew by in a mist characterized by Betty and Jughead’s perpetual smiles, constant flirting, and an almost concerning lack of sleep. They talked incessantly and spent as much time as they could together, with Betty following him around as he dealt with business and Jughead sticking close to Betty as she did computer work with Veronica.

All the Serpents found out about them almost immediately, to no one’s surprise. Who _wouldn’t_ notice that Jughead Jones was suddenly up before eight in the morning with zero complaints? It was impossible to miss the way he looked at her as if she was the only person in the room.

And Jughead’s friends made no reservations in teasing him about it. Not that he minded. If he was going to be made fun of for being so monumentally wrong about love, he was glad it was because of Betty.

“Can’t we go for normal chocolate?” Jughead protested as they read the menu above the cashier’s head. It was midnight and they were in their pajamas at an ice cream shop a few blocks away, as per Betty’s sudden craving.

She frowned, hooking her arm around his. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Chili in a dessert sounds like an abomination,” he informed her.

He was a man of simple tastes and was never been a fan of bizarre flavors. He liked his food classic: burgers, pizza, chocolate ice cream. He had absolutely no interest in the weird deep-fried burgers or sushi pizzas or spicy chocolate ice cream that people were going crazy to try lately.

“I think it’s going to be fun. And if you don’t like it, you can always order something else,” she countered before giving him a playful look. “Unless you’re… _afraid_ of spicy food?”

He furrowed his eyebrows at her. “I’m not afraid of spicy food,” he told her quickly and defensively.

She looked him up and down. “Sure you’re not.”

Jughead knew exactly what she was doing, but he couldn’t resist. He sighed went up to the counter as Betty laughed pleasantly beside him. “Hello, can we get two chili-chocolate ice cream cones?” he said to the cashier, before giving Betty a look that said _Happy now?_ because it hurt to say.

She smiled. She _was_ happy now. And because she was, so was he.

It turned out, Betty was the one who couldn’t intake anything that was remotely hot. She began to cough and sweat the moment she tried it.

“You okay?” he asked when he saw he trying to stifle another cough.

“Oh god, that’s hot,” she muttered under her breath. Jughead didn’t find it spicy at all. It actually reminded him of mint chocolate chip.

“What a plot twist. _You’re_ the one with the aversion to spicy food,” he teased.

Betty bit into the ice cream, making Jughead cringe. Who the hell bit their ice cream? Certainly not him. “I think I’ll taste it less if I bite,” she informed him, swallowing. She coughed again, eyes shut tight as she covered her mouth. “Never mind. I think I made it worse. Why are their chili _seeds_ in here? Jesus.” She took a deep breath. She looked adorable in her pink pinstripe pajamas as she tried her best to handle the ice cream.

“I thought we were supposed to be _adventurous,_ Betty,” he said with a light chuckle when she handed her cone to him in surrender.

“I give up,” she whispered. Her face was flushed red. “I’ll build up tolerance over time,” she added resolute, before standing up to order something else. Probably strawberry ice cream and a glass of water.

He smiled, amused, as he watched her head back with her cone and a glass of water, her breathing still heavy. It was a simple, simple night: an ice cream run and Betty’s willpower and insistence to a fault – but it was probably that sheer simplicity that made the moment carve into him. It felt like something he and Betty had done a thousand times before.

He never thought that sitting in front of someone in an empty ice cream parlor at 12:34 in the morning would ever leave a warm tattoo in his memory, and yet it did. If this was what falling in love was like, he finally understood why Archie was fixated on the idea of it.

Because it was _perfect._ Just perfect.

He didn’t know how long “perfect” would last – but he decided not to dwell on it. Now, being with her, was more than enough.

“So what’s it like? I mean, this is very new to all of us,” Veronica asked Betty over lunch. Cheryl and Toni were in Washington visiting Cheryl’s family and Archie and Jughead were out with a client, so Veronica had all the time in the world to ask Betty everything.

Betty was fully aware that Jughead suddenly dating a girl was big news to the Serpents – he had a reputation for being fully against that.

She smiled, feeling giddy just at the mention of him. “It’s great. But ‘great’ doesn’t even cut it,” she replied, trying to come up with an analogy that would explain how she felt some justice. “You know when you’re writing code and you’re not even thinking that hard anymore? Like, it spills out of you and you’re on a roll?”

Veronica nodded. “Only the best feeling _ever_.”

“It feels like that,” she said. “It’s so… natural. But also new and exciting and… I’m just really, really happy.”

Veronica smiled back. “I can see that.”

She had rambled again like she always did whenever somebody asked her about Jughead, but Jughead made her want to ramble on and on for eternity. She didn’t think she could ever find the words to properly articulate how she felt when she was around him, because it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

“I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m honestly not. From the moment you stepped in here, I knew he was a goner,” Veronica remarked.

Betty’s cheeks turned red. “A goner? He pulled a gun on me that day,” she said with a laugh.

“That just proves my point more. Jughead is very careful with his gun, and you caught him so off-guard you made him a little crazy,” Veronica explained.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yes. Jughead needs a little crazy. He can be so far in the zone sometimes,” she answered. “It’s refreshing to see him so happy.”

It was nice to hear that Jughead’s friends were supportive about the little changes in him. Betty knew she liked the little changes in herself, too, even if nobody knew her long enough to notice.

For starters, he made her a better listener. She was used to taking the lead in conversations, but she made it a point to have moments where she’d be a little more like Jughead, who was keen and understanding of what other people were saying because he was quiet and attentive. He was careful and deliberate in his every action, which was always a good quality to emulate.

He also made her think more about her dreams and her plans. She’d always been lost when it came to what she wanted to be, but seeing how headstrong he was despite the pressures of his lifestyle was inspiring. It made her feel that she could face anything as well.

When she was with Jughead, Betty saw something that all her life she always had a hard time getting a grasp of: a future.

She hoped he saw a future with her, too.

They spent the next few days gathering as much information as they could to give Damian as he infiltrated the Ghoulies. Reggie, the Ghoulie Betty had ruthlessly wacked over the head with a piece of metal days before, wasn’t exactly useful but he provided them with information about Greg’s recent behavior. Greg was very on edge since Damian left. He was making hasty decisions and was crankier than usual, which would provide useful to them in getting Damian back into the gang.

And all was fine and well until Hiram Lodge arrived in town.

While Betty had personally never met the man or had any idea what he looked like, he was an immediate damper on everyone’s mood. Whatever their history was, it clearly wasn’t good. There was a bad feeling in Betty’s stomach whenever his name was mentioned.

Veronica contacted the necessary people to get in touch with her father, and they were set to meet at his hotel suite on Wednesday at 7:30 pm.

Upon looking back on what transpired that night, Betty realized she should’ve trusted her gut. There was something very off about Hiram Lodge’s arrival at LA from the very beginning. It was too bad they realized too late.

Betty noticed both Veronica and Jughead were quiet the long ride to the Beverly Hills Hotel. There was a strange aura in the air – like an awkward UberPool despite all of them being friends. It was seven-fifteen in the evening in Jughead’s black Corolla, and Archie and Veronica were in the backseat, with Archie constantly asking Veronica if she was okay.

“You can always change your mind, you know,” he said for what was probably the fifth time in the last hour. “Jughead can turn this whole car back around if you want.”

Veronica shook her head. “I’m fine, Archie. Maybe this is what I need – like what Cheryl’s doing,” she told him. “This could be closure.”

They parked in an alleyway a few blocks from the hotel since Veronica had insisted on going in alone.

When car stopped, though, Veronica didn’t leave the vehicle right away. She tapped her lap several times, biting her lip. Betty watched through the rearview mirror as her friend mustered up the courage to go outside. Betty tried to fathom the kind of strength it took to face someone she harbored such painful feelings for. She couldn’t imagine how anxious Veronica was, having to see the person who ruined her life.

Archie gave her a long, concerned look. “Veronica, are you sure you want to go alone?” he asked, and it was as if he’d read her mind.

She took in a deep breath. “Actually, Archie, will you come with me?”

He smiled. “Yeah, of course. Ready?”

Veronica nodded and they quietly went out of the car and were on their way after Betty and Jughead wished her luck. But despite the calming thought of Archie being there for Veronica, Betty was once filled with the odd feeling in her stomach as she watched her friends leave, as if there was something sinister in the whole affair.

She looked at Jughead and noticed that his lack of words the entire ride wasn’t just his usual bout of silence during long drives. He hadn’t even turned on the radio. It was nighttime, and yet it was clear as ever that there was some kind of distant, far-off worry and sadness in his face.

She wondered what was going on in his mind.

Jughead was thinking about his father.

He once thought that he had a great deal control over his emotions, but recent weeks showed him he had anything but that. He couldn’t control the thoughts about his father any more than he could control the way he felt about Betty.

“Hey, you okay?” Betty asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. She had placed a hand over his.

He turned to her and blinked. “Yeah,” he replied quickly, nodding. “Sorry I’ve been so quiet.”

She gave him a dubious look. “Are you really?”

It seemed he wasn’t great at hiding his emotions, either. He was pretty sure the memory was flashing all over his face. “I know it’s the worst possible time to be thinking this, but this reminds me of the last time I saw my dad,” he answered her honestly. Admitting it appeased him a little.

“When was that?”

“Years ago,” he responded. “The first and only time I visited him in prison.”

“If it’s okay I ask, but what happened?”

“He hates me,” he told her simply. “He hates me so much,” he repeated, and this time there was something almost broken in the way he said it again. His voice was breathy and shaky, and it magnified the heavy feeling in his heart.

“I can’t say I blame him,” he continued, looking to his lap. “It’s just – family stuff, am I right? They never get easier to talk about.”

Betty nodded in agreement. “You don’t have to tell me,” she said, voice low.

“I want to tell you,” he replied, giving her a long, steady look. It was true – he hated being vulnerable unless he was with her. She made him feel safe. “But I think now’s a bad time, considering everything.”

“Tell me whenever or if ever you’re ready to, then,” Betty told him. “Just know that I’ll be here to listen.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Archie’s very protective of Veronica,” Betty remarked after a while.

Jughead nodded. “She can be destructive because of her father,” he continued, and he realized the words rung true to himself, too, “and Archie’s seen her at her very, very worst. He just wants her to be careful it never happens again.”

“Her father sounds awful,” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Why can’t he just leave her alone? I mean, does he think targeting the Serpents will make her forgive him?”

Jughead had never understood Hiram’s line of thinking. He was unpredictable in his strange tactics to get everything between him and his daughter out of the way – and it was that unpredictability that was most terrifying about him.

Hiram played this game before, years ago – expecting that if he took down the Serpents he’d get his daughter back. But forgiveness didn’t work that way.

“Years ago, when Hiram found out Veronica had joined the Serpents, he did all sorts of things to send messages to her. We suddenly lost half our clients… some imprisoned Serpents mysteriously died… someone started a fire in the _Wyrm_ ,” Jughead told her.

Repeating those events aloud in such a casual way made him realize yet again how absurd the last few years had been.

Betty’s jaw dropped. “That’s horrifying. What did he expect? That she’d come running to him after that? That if he scared her enough, she’d move back to New York?”

“Veronica blamed herself for everything – some stupid Serpents blamed her, too. She wanted to leave so we wouldn’t get hurt,” he went. “But it obviously wasn’t her fault. And we weren’t going to let her leave. The Serpents are a family, and we don’t abandon our family.”

She gave him a proud smile. “So you came up with a _super-plan_.”

“I wouldn’t call it a super-plan,” he said with a light chuckle. It had been one of the most testing times for the Serpents, taking down Hiram Lodge.

“It worked, though, didn’t it? You put him in jail.”

“For a few months,” he added. It was always important to note that it was only successful for _a few months._ “I keep thinking that maybe I should’ve done better. I should’ve ensured that he couldn’t get out.”

He remembered how hard he’d worked back then – the sleepless nights, the interrogations, the undercover work – just to put Hiram Lodge in prison where he ought to be. He’d overworked himself and every single Serpent in those months. And it still hadn’t been enough.

“I’m sure you did what you could,” she told him comfortingly. “Besides,” Betty added, more upbeat, “we’re going to do that soon, won’t we? When Damian gets all the receipts we need to build a case on him, Hiram will be in prison for good.”

He always loved how positively uplifting she was. Jughead smiled. “Yes, he will,” he confirmed. He turned on the radio and began going through the different stations, finally stopping a talk show that he would typically despise but he knew Betty would enjoy listening to.

“Yay, you turned on the radio! You’re having a good day again, then?” she asked brightly.

He smiled. He was once again taken back to the day he met her. It was a memory he always went back to, playing over and over in his head that it was probably distorted. Still, the image of Betty out of breath and clutching her backpack was clear as day.

“I’m sorry for pulling a gun on you when we first met, by the way,” he told her sheepishly. “Not my shiniest moment.”

She laughed. “I was just talking to Veronica about it the other day.”

“I know. She and Archie teased me about it again yesterday while we interrogated Reggie,” he explained. It was true. They roasted him _hard._ (Archie actually said, “Ever liked a girl so much you become a Republican?”). “There was so much going through my mind, I have no idea what I was thinking.”

“Oh, do tell what was going through your head that day,” she teased, narrowing her eyes at him.

He turned to her, leaning closer. “Just that there was a very pretty and very talkative girl inside this car who was dodging all my questions,” he said.

“So naturally you bring out a firearm,” she continued, moving so their faces were only inches apart.

“Naturally,” he echoed, smiling as he held her face and kissed her. Betty closed her eyes and threaded her fingers in his hair.

They’d done nothing more than kiss yet, both of them choosing to take things at a slow, easy pace. He didn’t want to do anything unless she was ready to, anyway.

The kiss deepened, and Jughead began to softly move his lips under her jaw. She brought her hands lower, her palms resting on his collarbone. “There,” she whispered when he reached her sweet spot near her throat, where he then lingered. His heart was racing and his whole body was hot in spite of the blasting cold AC. She let out a soft moan just as his phone suddenly began to ring in his pocket.

He pulled back and mumbled an apology, his heart dropping as he picked up the call. “Veronica? What happened?”

And upon hearing the immediate panic on the other end, he knew something had gone very wrong.

Hiram Lodge had taken Archie.

Jughead listened to her explain what had happened as he prayed that it wasn’t as terrible as the worst-case scenario that straightaway went through his head the instant he her on his caller ID.

He’d been pretty confident it would be a talk, maybe a threat, and nothing more – but he realized he should’ve known better.

He had said so himself: Hiram Lodge was unpredictable.

“… They just… they just took him,” Veronica’s shrill voice explained on the other end. “I’m such an idiot, I shouldn’t have brought him with me-”

“It’s not your fault,” he interrupted, knowing that Veronica was prone to spiraling into guilt when it was about her father. “We’ll pick you up, okay? Wait outside the hotel, we’ll drive by,” he told her as calmly as he could, even if he could feel his own heart thumping out of his chest. _Be calm, Jughead._ He needed to be sensible and not allow his emotions to get the better of him.

He passed the phone to Betty and started the engine. “Put it on speaker.”

She nodded. “Veronica – what happened?” Betty questioned.

“Oh, Betty… It went south so quickly… my dad took Archie-”

Betty placed a hand to her mouth. “Oh my god.”

“He’ll be fine, Veronica,” Jughead reassured her, though he wasn’t feeling too confident. _Hiram wouldn’t hurt Archie,_ he tried to tell himself. “He’s going to be fine. We’ll get him back. They won’t hurt him.”

Jughead looked at Betty, who was visibly shaken. Her worried eyes stared ahead as she bit her lip. He hoped she wasn’t too worried, so he took her hand and squeezed it. “It’ll be okay,” he said – both to her and to Veronica.

There was a flash of realization on her face. She squeezed his hand back. “It’ll be okay,” she repeated to him, and he knew that the underlying message was _You don’t have to be calm, Jughead._

It hit him how grateful he was for Betty. He was used to having to be the cool and collected one –the rational leader who didn’t freak out or get carried away. Because of that, he’d always felt alone when things went badly. But hearing her voice, and feeling her hand in his, he knew it was okay to lose his mind once in a while.

He shifted gears and drove straight to the hotel.

Veronica’s cheeks were wet with tears as she waited outside the hotel. She was alone and full of despair, clutching her phone so tightly in her hand it looked as though it could break in her grip. Betty immediately got out of the car to pull her into a hug.

“They took him, Betty. They took him-” she began. Betty heard it in the cracked way her friend spoke. This was years of pent up anger, crashing down on this one night. This was Betty’s gut feeling manifesting into the tight embrace Veronica gave her.

“Shhh. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay. They didn’t hurt him, right?” Betty whispered. “We’ll get him back.”

Veronica took in heavy breaths and pulled back, her makeup smudged across her face. “I need to tell you what happened. God, I feel so stupid, Betty. I should’ve known this was a trap.”

 _A trap?_ Betty furrowed her eyebrows, holding Veronica’s shoulders. “What do you mean, a trap?”

“He tricked us. He tricked Delilah Grande, he tricked _me,”_ she explained, though it was still unclear what she meant by it.

“Let’s go to the car first, alright? You can explain everything in the drive,” Betty told her, guiding her to the car where both girls sat in the backseat.

When they were inside, Jughead turned to look at them both. “It’ll be okay, Veronica, alright? This isn’t your fault,” he said as he began to drive.

She wiped her tears, her breathing calming down.

“Walk us through what happened,” Jughead said, glancing at them through the mirror.

Betty comfortingly rubbed Veronica’s shoulders and handed her a box of tissues. It was horrible seeing her like this when Veronica was usually so upbeat. For the first time, Betty was seeing a side of Veronica that was truly and utterly in pain.

“I like to believe he doesn’t know me,” Veronica began, sniffing, “But he does. He knows me so well, and I’m so predictable.”

“Don’t blame yourself. No one could’ve seen this coming-”

“I should’ve seen this coming a mile away,” she cut her off. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. But think about it – how did Delilah find out that Hiram was coming? He _wanted_ her to find out. He _wanted_ her to tell Jughead. He knew exactly how I’d react, and that I’d want to come see him. It was a trap from the very beginning.”

“How do you know Delilah wasn’t in on this?” Jughead asked.

“Because at this very moment, Delilah is being arrested,” Veronica said grimly. “By tomorrow, it’ll be all over the news: _Grande Enterprises runs an illegal weapons business.”_

Betty’s heart dropped. She personally didn’t like Delilah, but it wasn’t like she wanted her in prison. She’d only wanted to help.

Jughead didn’t say anything, but Betty saw him tighten his grip on the steering wheel. He hadn’t anticipated this at all, and she already knew he was beginning to blame himself despite him doing nothing wrong, either.

“He told us all of that, and then… he had his men take Archie away. Archie was calm the entire time – he kept telling me not to worry, but how could I not? My father’s capable of anything,” she went on. “I should’ve gone alone. My dad knew – he knew I didn’t have the strength to meet him on my own. And now Archie’s in danger because of it.”

She took in a deep breath. “He told me that he’d make sure Archie gets out unharmed if…” She closed her eyes before continuing. “If I willingly go with him to New York for a week.”

“What? Why does he want you to go there?” Betty questioned.

“I don’t know. He said one week, and Archie gets out unharmed the moment I arrive back in LA,” Veronica explained. “And I’ll do it, of course. It’s just – it’s ridiculous, isn’t it? All of this effort just to take me to New York.”

Betty tried to comprehend everything she just heard. So Hiram Lodge deliberately made Delilah Grande find out that he was coming to town, anticipating that Veronica would want to meet with him. He also anticipated that Veronica would have company – and it was Archie, no less, who meant the world to her.

It was a terrifyingly foolproof plan.

“But why? What does he want to do in New York?” Betty asked.

Veronica shook her head. “I have no idea. He wants me to leave on Friday. He claims that by the time I’m back, I’ll willingly leave the Serpents and return for good,” she scoffed. “As if he could say or do anything to convince me.”

“Your father’s sick in the head,” Jughead suddenly said, voice low. “And you’re not going on that trip.”

“I have to,” she told him. “It’s the only way to get Archie back.”

“We’ll get him back. But under no circumstances are you going to New York,” he replied sternly. “No exceptions. We won’t let you go back there – not after everything your father’s done to you.”

“I appreciate the determination, Jughead, but this is my father we’re talking about here,” Veronica argued back. “Maybe… maybe as long as I’m in the Serpents, this is going to keep happening… The solution is so simple, and it’s been hitting me in the face the moment Betty mentioned my father’s name three weeks ago. I have to go back to New York. He’s unbeatable.”

Jughead was shaking his head as he drove. Betty could only see his eyes through the mirror, but they were enough to convey the palpable fury and remorse that had overcome them. “You’re not going, end of discussion.”

“I’m going – no discussion required,” Veronica countered.

Betty saw the guilt in Veronica’s face and thought there was something so wrong in the universe if this girl was blaming herself for the evildoings of her dad. The Serpents were Veronica’s real family. They were real because she chose them, and they had chosen her.

Betty was with Jughead on this one. They would get Archie back without having to let Veronica go back to her hell. They’d make sure of it.

Jughead stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking out his room’s window. It was close to midnight, and it was the worst he felt in a while. His best friend had been taken by Hiram, Delilah Grande (the Serpents’ biggest client) was arrested, and Veronica was under threat. None of his friends (Delilah included) deserved any of what was happening to them. After explaining to the Serpents what had happened and a long phone call with Cheryl and Toni, he’d spent the last hour trying to think of some kind of plan, but he could barely get himself to process how he was feeling enough to focus.

As he stood by himself, it befell on him that he hated being alone when things were bad. He used to think otherwise – that isolation was the best and most rational way to get through something. But he wished in that instant that he wouldn’t be alone.

He heard his doorknob turn, and he knew exactly who it was. Wish granted.

And just like that, Jughead felt infinitely better. He turned around and saw her. Betty. He’d left the light off, but he could make out the features on her face from the moonlight that seeped in through the windowpanes. She was like an angel – her mere presence could quell any bad mood.

“Hey, how’s Veronica?” he asked, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“She just fell asleep,” she informed him, giving him a small smile. “How are you holding up?”

He took in a sharp breath. “Better than before,” he answered. “How about you? This must feel very new to you.”

She nodded. “It is, but I’m doing okay. I know we’ll get Archie back,” she replied, positive. “Hiram Lodge may be unpredictable, but as long as he believes that Veronica’s going to New York, I don’t think Archie’s in any deep danger.”

Jughead nodded. “I’m trying to figure out where to go from here,” he told her, his heart beginning to race. “I mean – where to start, right? Getting Archie back, naturally. But I’m also worried about the fact that we lost our biggest client… Does this mean that Hiram has dirt on us, too? We’re one of Delilah’s suppliers, so he must have proof of our transactions, despite how infallible we think our system is. But if he _does_ have proof, why doesn’t he just turn us in? Why drag all of this out? So maybe he doesn’t have any dirt on us. Either way – how do we get Archie back without having to let Veronica go to New York but at the same time not pissing off Hiram so much that it doesn’t backfire on us-”

Betty’s expression shifted from optimistic to concern, as she quickly moved closer to him, placing both her hands on his face. “Hey, Jug,” she interrupted his ramble, her voice soothing and sweet. He didn’t even realize he had been spiraling and talking so quickly until he saw the fixed gaze of her green eyes, bringing him back to earth.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?” she told him firmly. “Take it easy. You’re not alone.”

He could feel his pulse calming. He took in a deep breath.

The answer to the question he’d been asking himself in the past few days finally appeared in his mind.

How long was perfect going to last?

_Until she leaves._

But she hadn’t left. Not yet, anyway. She was still here, now, and she was telling him the words he wished he’d heard more often: _You’re not alone._

She was right. He wasn’t alone as long as she was still here. So he’d savor every moment he got until she wasn't.

Jughead's gaze softened as he smiled. And just like that, a clever plan began to form in his head.


	12. "At the end of the day, this is where I want to be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the 300 kudos :)

Betty loved heist movies. She loved the thrill of watching the culmination of months of preparation turn into a smooth, split-screen supercut of criminals in a public, high-security place taking something they believed rightfully belonged to them. And for years it’s what she believed – that a heist to that degree was simply impossible. That no ordinary person could pull one off.

Oh, was she wrong.

This wasn’t really a heist so much as it was a breakout. It also wasn’t something that took months of cautious, deliberate development. Their timeframe was squeezed into two days because they had less than 48 hours to get Archie back before Veronica’s flight that was scheduled on Friday afternoon. That pressure would probably daze anyone who wasn’t Jughead Jones, but Betty had full confidence he’d come up with something absolutely brilliant.

On Thursday morning, at five in the morning, Jughead called every Serpent into the communal hall. He was running on one hour of sleep, as he’d spent most of the night pacing his room and talking to himself. Betty had fallen asleep on his bed listening to him speak out loud. His voice reminded her of melted butter, a sweet and melodic lullaby.

She’d woken up to his alarm clock at 4:00 in the morning, him lightly snoring on the bed beside her, his arm swung over her waist keeping her warm. He was a deep sleeper so the blaring ringing sound didn’t faze him at all, and Betty had to shake him repeatedly for him to even open his eyes.

When they were downstairs and Jughead began to recount once again what had happened, she was surprised at how awake he suddenly was, as if he wasn’t grumpy and snoring a mere half hour ago. It was as though a switch had flipped. He was completely serious, with his eyes narrowed and face in a slight frown. He talked with his head high. He definitely looked like a gang leader now, tall and intimidating, especially with his black leather jacket thrown over his usual ensemble.

“Delilah Grande’s arrest should be on the news right now,” he announced grimly, “I’m relying on the fact that our system is secure enough that Hiram doesn’t have anything that can truly implicate us.”

“We should add more security to the servers later,” Veronica, who was standing beside her, stated. “To be sure.”

Jughead nodded in agreement and began to explain with more detail what had happened to Archie. He turned to look at Betty and the intimidating face suddenly vanished. The switch had flipped back. His gaze softened and he lowered his head to give her a small smile.

 _The two sides of Jughead Jones_ , she thought. Both wonderful, though she liked this one a lot more.

“… and so we have today and tomorrow morning to get him back,” Jughead finished.

“Two days? We don’t even have a clue where they could’ve put him. He could be in New York right now for all we know,” Fangs spoke up. “Or Mexico.”

Veronica sighed. “Exactly. This is why I should just go to New York,” she said under her breath. “No one gets hurt.”

“Wherever he is, we’ll find him,” Betty told her.

“You’re not going to New York, Veronica,” Jughead reiterated. “Today, we’ll be focusing our attention on locating Archie. It doesn’t matter where he is because we’ll get him out anyway. We’ll have early breakfast and get to work straight away. I’ll be assigning Betty and Veronica to handle all things cyber with that, as well as some of you who could be of help to them. Once they’re able to locate him, contact the people I assigned. Fangs and Sweet Pea will be meeting up with Damian Torres to see what he knows about where Archie is and what the Ghoulies are up to, while I’ll be clearing things out with Grande Enterprises.”

He then pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. “Cheryl and Toni got the earliest plane they could and should be back by noon. As for the rest of you, I made a list of all assignments that need to be fulfilled preferably before 3 pm today. These assignments range from acquiring resources like weapons to talking to insiders to gathering intel to dealing with clients – so manage your time wisely because we’ll assemble again at 3:30 sharp. Any questions?”

“Does this mean we have to find new clients?” Sweet Pea asked. “Grande Enterprises was our biggest one.”

Jughead nodded. “Unless I can sort something out, it does mean that. But we have enough resources now to last us for a few months while we search for other modes of business,” he replied. “Any more questions?”

When no more were raised, everyone prepared to get on with work. Jughead had given some strange tasks to certain people, like _Jane get a haircut, Juli buy plane tickets,_ and _Victor and Bonnie go shopping._ He hadn’t explained why, and nobody bothered to ask – deciding to trust Jughead.

Betty and Veronica worked tirelessly that day. Veronica was more focused than ever as they hacked into the Beverly Hills Hotel’s system and got a hold of several key camera footages. Jughead assigned them five other Serpents to support them, so the girls had the five enthusiastic gang members watch hours upon hours of both old and live camera feeds, trying to catch a glimpse of Archie’s location.

“I wonder why Jughead gave such weird instructions to some people,” Betty said to Veronica as they did their work. Some assignments were so oddly specific they made absolutely no sense when they were read out loud. “I mean, a haircut and shopping? How does that have anything to do with rescuing Archie?”

Veronica chuckled, nodding. “Jughead’s plans don’t make sense until they’re executed.”

By 11 am, they knew this much: Archie had stayed in the hotel until midnight, then he was taken into a black van and driven away. They could only hope they hadn’t driven far.

By noon, just when Cheryl and Toni arrived back, they knew that Archie had a few miles outside the city.

By 1 pm, they knew exactly where Archie was.

The plan came together that same day. Jughead had always known that the Serpents were capable of anything – but it never failed to impress him when they pulled off yet another feat of accomplishing so much in a tight schedule. In this case, less than a day.

Betty and Veronica told him where Archie was located (still near Los Angeles), Fangs and Sweet Pea learned that the Ghoulies were not involved in hiding Archie, and Delilah Grande’s associates had assured him that the Serpents were not implicated in Delilah’s arrest. He’d expected all those things, so it was relieving to know his deductions were right.

All the tasks he had assigned – from the haircut up to the acquiring of weapons – were accomplished just as he’d intended.

He’d been nervous about his plan when he’d thought of it – more nervous than he usually was. This was his best friend that was on the line, and it wasn’t often that somebody as important as Archie Andrews was ever abducted. But as Jughead spoke to the group of people who believed in him, he drew in more confidence in what he had come up with the night before.

Betty, positive as ever, beamed at him with awe from her place in the room as he relayed to the Serpents what exactly would take place the following day. It was a boost to his ego, sure, to have someone as amazing as Betty look at him as though he discovered a cure for a chronic illness when he was, in reality, talking about something completely illegal – but more than that, it made him feel so mushy he was sure he could melt on the spot. He even found himself smiling a little when his eyes would meet hers, despite the seriousness of the situation. She was distracting in the best possible way.

“Veronica,” he said towards the end of relaying his plan, “I’m going to need you to call your father and tell him you’re going on that flight tomorrow.”

She wasn’t going on that flight, obviously – they were only going to make Hiram believe that. He saw, in the confident way she nodded, that Veronica’s faith had been restored. “I will.”

When he dismissed everyone and the Serpents dispersed, Betty approached him, still smiling. “You’re a mastermind,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “That explains the haircut you made that girl get.”

Jughead laughed. “I felt kinda bad about that,” he said.

“It suits her. She loves it. So does Veronica, obviously,” she replied, before looking at his face intently. “You need to sleep. Look at your eye bags.”

“Those are permanently there, regardless of the hours of sleep I get,” he informed her in a jokingly regretful way. “Is that a deal-breaker?”

Betty nodded, matching his playful, sullen expression. “I’m afraid it is.”

He couldn’t help it. Jughead pulled her closer and kissed her on the forehead. “Damn it. I guess I need to get some sleep, then.”

The following day, Jughead was well-rested as ever. He normally would have tossed and turned all night considering how big a day Friday was going to be, but he had slept soundly. He knew that everything would turn out fine; Betty was only a few rooms away.

Everyone was up before 6 am, as he’d discussed. The flight to New York was at 1 in the afternoon, so they had to get started early.

They were going to do two big things that day: rescue Archie and sneak Veronica out of LAX.

He’d split the Serpents into two groups – one to come for Archie and one to make a diversion at the airport. The logic was to accomplish both operations simultaneously to take Hiram’s entire plan off its tracks so suddenly there would be no time to retaliate. Jughead was leading the group that would rescue Archie while Toni was leading the operation at the airport.

Betty had been excited the whole morning, spending a considerable half-hour raving about the earpieces they’d be using to communicate. “Do you know that the fact that we’ll have earpieces means we’re practically living in a heist movie, Jug? A _heist_ movie! _Jones’s 11._ Instant blockbuster,” she’d said before stuffing a pancake in her mouth.

“What are you smiling about?” Sweet Pea, who was driving, suddenly asked, transporting Jughead out of his thoughts. They, along with Fangs who sat in the backseat, were in the car on the way to rescue Archie, and the car ride was silent as ever, with only the low hum of the radio playing. The three boys were undoubtedly the quietest Serpent members – they all kept to themselves.

“Nothing,” Jughead mumbled.

 _Betty._ He was smiling because of Betty.

“Damian’s very smug about you and Betty getting together,” Sweet Pea informed him. “He kept saying that he predicted ‘Jughead in love’ a week ago.”

Jughead felt his face go hot. Was everyone suddenly a psychic when it came to him and Betty? He coughed, turning around. “Fangs, any updates from Toni?” he asked, gearing the topic away.

He nodded. “They’re a few miles away from the airport.”

“Good.” Then the boys were back to silence.

Meanwhile, the four girls were having the time of their lives in their car ride to LAX. They were chatting animatedly about how much they loved _Ocean’s 8_ and blasting ABBA. Betty was glad to see that Veronica wasn’t pessimistic, especially considering the circumstances they were in. It was no surprise, though – everyone knew without a doubt that the plan would work.

Cheryl, who was driving, turned up the volume. “I wonder how the boys are doing in their drive,” she remarked loudly.

“Probably brooding the way boys do,” Veronica replied, humming to Dancing Queen.

“I’ll bet all my money on those odds,” Toni stated. “Let’s rehash the plan, shall we? Step-by-step, I’ll start. Number one, get through security.” Jughead had made Serpents book several flights yesterday so everyone could freely go around the airport.

“Number two, we all head to the bathroom,” Betty continued.

“Number three, we put on our earpieces,” Cheryl went on. Betty had been so excited about wearing earpieces that morning – she’d rambled on and on about it with Jughead over breakfast.

“Number four, we all head to our stations – I separate from the group to meet with my dad’s associates,” Veronica supplemented. Hiram Lodge was apparently already in New York, waiting for his daughter’s arrival.

“Five, I meet up with our insider in airport security to give us our route,” Toni continued.

“Six, I inform Veronica when it’s time to use the bathroom,” Betty supplemented.

“Seven, we make the switch,” Cheryl said. _The switch._ Betty was most excited about that part.

“Eight, we exit according to protocol,” Veronica finished, grinning.

“Nine, communicate with Jughead,” Betty added, a smile coming up her face. She’d added that one on her own – she was just missing him already. Betty already couldn’t wait to tell him all about it.

Archie was being held at a deserted motel just outside LA by some of Hiram’s men.

According to the intel he had some Serpents gather yesterday, there was a total of fifteen men who were going to be in their way at the motel. It was almost funny that Hiram had ordered maximum security to harbor only one Archie Andrews – but Jughead knew it was, if anything, a terrifying notion that Hiram could afford to be extra sure in his plans.

Still, the Serpents were capable of anything. So Jughead wasn’t too fazed.

Four of the men were inside the room while eleven were stationed at random places in the motel lot, keeping guard for any suspicious activity – and possible breakouts.

The first thing that Jughead figured would be important was outnumbering them. There were 30 Serpents who were in on the operation. It wasn’t like Hiram was anticipating the Serpents to be so prepared to ambush, so it would surely catch them off-guard.

The second thing was making sure everyone was armed. He assumed that all of Hiram’s men would have weapons on hand, and were probably better trained than the usual Ghoulies were. Everyone had to not only be smart with their weapons, but as stealthy as possible. Creating too much noise could disrupt the entire plan.

The final thing was ensuring that as much as possible, there would be no casualties. There was never a reason to cost anyone their life, especially if the people were involved were only pawns. The real enemy was Hiram – not the people who were working for him. He made sure to tell the Serpents that.

They arrived at 11 am at the site. The motel had been abandoned years ago, and Hiram seemed to have acquired it recently for this very purpose. Jughead had carefully drawn out everyone’s stations the day before.

He stationed himself at the motel’s front desk. He held his gun in his hand tightly, adjusting his earpiece which he was going to use to communicate to all the Serpents involved.

“On three,” Jughead whispered into his earpiece. “One,” he began, as he carefully approached two men standing guard near the front desk. “Two…”

“Three,” he said loudly, shooting at the lightbulb feet away. The two men immediately turned their heads to the shattered glass, and while they were distracted Jughead swiftly hit both of them over the head with the swing of his fists.

In short, things were going just as he’d expected.

At that very moment, the girls were on step two of the plan. Cheryl was adjusting Betty’s hair over her earpiece. “Remember to not open your mouth so much so it doesn’t look like you’re talking to yourself. As much as possible pretend you’re yawning or coughing when you give Veronica her cue,” Cheryl reminded her.

Betty nodded. “Got it, Debbie Ocean. Oh my gosh! Since I’m the newest Serpent, does this make me Anne Hathaway?” Clearly, the _Ocean’s 8_ references hadn’t stopped.

Cheryl laughed, amused. “I suppose it does.”

“I’m claiming Cate Blanchett’s character, then,” Toni announced. “You ready, Veronica? Got your passport, baggage, everything?”

Veronica nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Good. Best of luck out there, Lodge,” Toni told her, giving her a smile before Veronica left the bathroom.

The girls all dispersed to their assigned places. Betty was to closely follow behind Veronica, waiting for Jane – the girl who was assigned to get a haircut – to be ready.

Betty listened to Veronica speak to the three men, all in suits, who were accompanying her. _“This is a first-class ticket, right?”_ Veronica heard her ask through the earpiece. _“I can’t handle anything less than first-class.”_

 _“It is, Miss Lodge. Your father will be very pleased to see you’ve complied_ ,” a man’s voice responded.

 _“He won’t be so pleased when he sees me flying back to LA,”_ Veronica replied snarkily.

Betty smiled at how brutal her friend was. She listened to Veronica continue to talk theatrically about how much she didn’t want to go to New York, much to the tired sighs of Hiram Lodge’s associates.

While they walked through the busy airport, Betty scanned the faces and found Jane, the Serpent with a new haircut. Her raven hair was cropped short, just below her shoulders. Jane was wearing the exact same clothes as Veronica – a blue pantsuit and white heels, which was why some Serpents were assigned to go shopping yesterday, so they had two sets of the exact same clothes.

From where Betty stood, Jane looked just like Veronica.

“Veronica, switch,” Betty mumbled, giving Veronica her cue.

She heard a sigh on the other end of the earpiece. _“I need to use the bathroom,”_ Veronica announced dramatically, and Betty could see that her friend was clutching her stomach.

 _“Why? Can’t you do that later?”_ a man’s irritated voice responded.

“ _No,”_ she responded. _“It’s girl trouble. You know what I’m talking about, right?”_

 _“I don’t,”_ the man said.

_“You know, when girls get all moody and cranky and hungry that time of the month-”_

_“Oh,”_ the man cut her off, fully believing Veronica’s improvisation _. “Go ahead. We’ll wait right here.”_

 _“Thank you for being so understanding,”_ Veronica said sweetly before stalking away into the bathroom where she would then switch places with Jane.

Betty smiled. Things were going according to plan.

Just a little outside LA, Jughead stood breathing heavily with Fangs and Sweet Pea beside him. They’d just disarmed the men guarding Archie’s room, which had been challenging but doable. Nobody was seriously hurt, save for a few fistfights that led to bleeding cuts at worst.

“Room 201, right?” Fangs asked.

Jughead nodded. “But we have to be prepared for the possibility of more guards to be behind that door,” he said. While he trusted the intel he collected, they could never be too sure. Something could have changed last minute.

Jughead kicked down the door. But there were only two people in the room.

“Jughead!” Archie exclaimed, standing up with the biggest smile on his face. He had been sitting at the end of the bed, wearing the exact same clothes he was wearing on Wednesday night. Jughead exhaled, thankful. He had no doubt that Archie was okay, but seeing him in the flesh was a whole other feeling of relief. His plan had worked. They saved Archie.

Nick St. Clair was also in the room and standing right in front of him, a gun in his hand which he had pointed directly at Jughead. Fangs and Sweet Pea raised their weapons and pointed it at Nick.

“You’re outnumbered, Nick, don’t even bother,” Archie said confidently. “I’m sure the Serpents already handled the other guards in this place, correct?”

Sweet Pea smirked. “Correct.”

Jughead hadn’t seen Nick since Vegas – but he looked more tired now, his eye bags heavy and face sallow. The last weeks clearly haven’t been good to him. He dropped his gun to the floor and raised his hands over his head. “Please don’t kill me,” he suddenly begged, shutting his eyes rightly. “Please.”

Jughead turned to his best friend, lowering his weapon. “You good, man?”

Archie laughed, his expression so happy he looked like a little boy. He pulled Jughead into a tight hug. “I knew you guys would come!”

Jughead hugged him back, unable to hide his joy, either. “I’m glad you’re okay. Also, you smell.”

“Yeah, Nick over here wouldn’t let me shower. Or even give me a fresh set of clothes,” Archie complained. Jughead missed his best friend, despite him being gone for less than a couple of days. Archie was one of the most positive, uplifting presences in his life, and it was hard to imagine doing day-to-day Serpent business without him.

“Is Veronica okay?” Archie asked, troubled. “Where is she?”

Jughead pulled away. “She’s fine,” he said, deciding not to say too much in front of Nick. He turned back to him. “Hiram Lodge is in New York, correct?”

Nick nodded. “Yes. He left last night,” he informed him. “Please don’t kill me,” he said again. He looked pathetic, his hands practically shaking as he spoke. _This_ was the guy Hiram left in charge to get rid of the Serpents? No wonder they were failing. He was an idiot.

“I won’t,” Jughead said. “In fact, I appreciate you being here to be the one to deliver the news to your boss.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want – I have information. I can give it to you. Just don’t kill me, please,” Nick told him quickly.

“You’re the furthest thing from loyal,” Fangs remarked to Nick, scoffing.

“What information do you have?” Jughead asked.

Nick sighed. “Hiram doesn’t tell me things, especially about what goes on in Lodge Industries. He’s very disappointed in me. Understandable. I haven’t done anything right,” he told them without taking a breath. “But I – I know that while Veronica’s in New York, plenty of things are set to happen to the Serpents.”

“Like what?”

“He found it impossible to dig up any dirt on your gang when he got Delilah Grande arrested – great security, by the way. But he plans to frame you for the disappearance of his daughter,” he explained.

It was a good thing Veronica wasn’t going to New York, then. “I fucking hate that guy,” Archie grumbled.

Jughead nodded. “Is that all?”

“That’s all,” Nick replied.

“Alright,” he began, leaning forward to stare daggers at Nick. “Now leave this message you’re your boss: leave Veronica – and all the Serpents for that matter – _alone_.”

Back in LAX, Betty watched as Hiram’s associates began to check their watches, concerned because Veronica hadn’t returned from the bathroom yet. It had been more than ten minutes.

 _“Where is she?”_ Betty heard one of them ask. Veronica had secretly placed a recorder on one of her suitcases so they could hear what they were talking about while they made the switch.

 _“I think women’s trouble doesn’t take fifteen minutes,”_ one of them replied.

At that very moment, Jane ran out of the bathroom, dressed up exactly like Veronica, and holding Veronica’s bag. She wore sunglasses, and if Betty didn’t know any better she’d think that Jane was Veronica. The similarity was uncanny – down to the haircut.

Step seven. The diversion. Make the switch.

Betty shot her eyes to the three men, and one of them spotted Jane.

 _“There she is! She’s trying to escape!”_ he shouted, pointing at the entrance of the bathroom.

 _“What an idiot,”_ the other grumbled, and the three men began to chase Fake-Veronica (Jane) through the airport, as the Real-Veronica, in an entirely new outfit, sneakily came out the bathroom, Cheryl walking by her side.

By the time the three men would reach Jane, they’d be too late to realize she wasn’t Veronica.

Betty loved heist movies. The wardrobe changes, the diversion, the secret communication. But most importantly, she loved the endings. She loved when everyone involved made their composed exit out the doors, the people inside blissfully unaware that they had just been deceived.

She followed the two until they met up with Toni in a less crowded area. A woman from airport security – who was in on it with them – led them out an employees’ exit.

Betty picked up her phone to text Jughead – but he had already texted her: **Archie’s safe with us. How did it go?**

She smiled and called him. He picked up instantly. “Holy shit, Jug, that was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

After the failure the Beverly Hills Hotel meeting was, Jughead’s plan taking place without a misstep was a victory. When both groups made it back to the parking garage of Serpent headquarters, Veronica pretty much tackled Archie when she pulled him into a hug.

“You’re okay,” she whispered, and from the muffled way she said it Jughead was sure she was crying.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Archie said to her, and Jughead was surprised to see that Archie was crying, too. “I know I don’t smell great. Sorry,” he added.

“I don’t care,” she said. “I really, really don’t care.”

Jughead smiled. He didn’t know what it was, exactly, but there was something different in the way Archie and Veronica were speaking to each other. Something had changed in their time apart, or maybe it had changed before that – and whatever it was appeared to be a good thing. He looked away to give them more privacy.

Betty stepped out of the car, beaming when she saw Jughead. She walked over to him excitedly, clutching her hands together. “That. Was. Awesome!”

“Glad you had fun,” he said, his heart warm at seeing how glad she was. “I remember my first airport escape plan was a total disaster-”

Her face fell, cutting him abruptly. “What happened to your cheek?”

He’d forgotten about that. Jughead placed a hand to it. “Oh. I got hit,” he answered, cavalier. It really didn’t hurt at all. It would probably bruise and nothing more.

She looked at it closely, eyes full of concern. “I’ll get it cleaned up. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Jughead shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

“Guess we’ll just have to find out, then,” she said, holding his hand. “Let’s go upstairs. I need to tell you again how awesome that was.”

He laughed. Betty, ever the adventurer. He loved seeing her so completely and utterly pleased with herself. He wished he could freeze the moment of her brilliant smile and relive it over and over again.

Jughead suddenly became very busy that week. He credited it to the fact that he was meeting up with possible clients, so Betty was understanding when he’d leave right after breakfast and come back before dinner.

Saturday was Pasadena. Sunday was Burbank. Monday was San Diego. Tuesday was Burbank again. Wednesday was Santa Monica and Culver City. She asked a few times if she could tag along, to which he was regrettably turned down.

“These people aren’t fans of having to talk to more than one person,” he’d said, barely meeting her eye. He wasn’t distant in any other regard, but he barely ever talked about clients. Betty could only assume that the meetings didn’t go well since he always hopped onto another topic when it was brought up.

She wouldn’t have questioned it at all, really. Sometimes Jughead just didn’t like to talk about certain things, and that was okay. She understood that.

But then she caught him in a lie.

On Thursday morning before he left for Beverly Hills, Jughead told Betty over breakfast that he had to meet a big potential client in Oakland the following day. Oakland was several hours away, which meant he’d be gone from morning to night. It disappointed her for a very specific reason that she hadn’t really told anyone about.

She woke up on Friday feeling horrible because Jughead would be leaving for Oakland at any moment. A knock came on her door and Betty quickly got up, hopes shooting that maybe it was Jughead on the other side telling her that he didn’t have to leave today.

Instead, she opened it up to find Veronica standing in the corridor, all dressed-up. “Hey, B! Morning, you’re up later than usual,” she greeted, surprised.

It was true. Betty was usually up before the sun came up, and yet it was past 7 am and she was still in her pajamas. “Just feeling a little down, that’s all,” Betty answered, giving her a small smile. “I’ll go get ready for breakfast.”

Veronica’s narrowed her eyes at her, scanning for emotion. “You okay?” she asked.

Betty nodded, turning around and sitting down at the edge of her bed. “Yeah, just one of those days,” she replied. “Has Jughead left yet?”

“To Berkeley? He’s about to,” Veronica answered.

“Berkeley? I thought he was going to Oakland,” Betty said, her heart dropping.

Veronica nodded quickly, eyes wide. “Oh, yeah. Oakland. Sorry,” she corrected, shaking her head and not meeting her eye.

Betty crossed her arms over her chest. “Why would you think he was going to Berkeley?”

“I must have misheard,” she told her, brushing it off. But the way she couldn’t look at Betty when she said it was so similar to the way Jughead talked about Betty not being able to go on meetings.

Betty stayed quiet, trying to figure out what this meant. Berkeley and Oakland sounded nothing alike. So why was Veronica covering for him?

“I don’t think you misheard,” Betty responded, surprising Veronica. She took in a deep breath before explaining.

“I haven’t been seeing Jughead enough. It’s my birthday today, you know,” she continued.

Veronica’s face fell. “Oh, I’m-”

“I’m twenty-one. I haven’t told Jughead because I know he has a meeting and I don’t want him to feel obligated to do anything special because it must be tough, losing Grande Enterprises just like that,” Betty went on.

“Betty-”

“Did he lie? Is he being secretive? I thought things were going great,” Betty interrupted, staring at the floor before standing up. “Is he still in his room?”

Her friend nodded. “Yes, but-”

Betty didn’t wait for her to finish. She stood up immediately and stalked out of her room Veronica following behind her. No, Betty wasn’t going to wait around for things to get worse. She didn’t like it when things were left unresolved.

“Betty, wait!” Veronica called out, sounding almost too troubled. Suspicious.

But Betty didn’t listen. She noticed the hallways were empty, so she had zero reservations in knocking loudly on Jughead’s door. “JUG, OPEN UP!” she called out.

The door opened a few seconds later, and standing before her was Jughead dressed as if he was going on a vacation. He had sunglasses perched on the collar of his white button-down. What the hell?

She looked at him, stunned. Why was he wearing _this_ to meet with a client?

“Betty,” he declared, just as shocked as she was. He glanced over at Veronica, who had caught up behind her, and they shared some kind of secret conversation, with Jughead narrowing his eyes at her before turning back to Betty.

Betty wasn’t just confused now. She was fired up. She felt her hands curl at her sides. “Jughead, where are you going today?” she asked, voice icy.

“Uh, Berk-land,” he stuttered out. “I mean – um, wait. Betty, I can explain.” He looked completely caught off-guard, mouth hanging open, pupils big.

“Have you been lying to me?” she asked, unable to believe it. It wasn’t like him at all to do anything even close to lying. And it wasn’t like he knew it was her birthday, but still – double betrayal. She was breathing heavily, her chest hot.

“Betty, he can explain,” Veronica said behind her.

Betty turned around. “What do you mean? Do you know about this?” Her heart was pounding loudly in her chest.

“I messed up. I told everyone to say Berkeley, then I accidentally said Oakland yesterday because I can’t lie to you,” he rambled without taking a breath, his eyes firmly planted on her.

“I don’t know where you’re getting at,” she said, deadpan, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m sorry, but I promise, there’s a perfectly good explanation for why,” he went on. He looked determined, and Betty made the conscious decision to believe him. She calmed down a little. There _had_ to be a reason. She trusted Jughead, despite how confusing the situation was.

“I still don’t know what you mean, Jug,” she said, voice barely a whisper, tears building behind her eyelids. She knew she probably looked funny with her wild hair and pajamas and fuzzy flip-flops, but she couldn’t help that she felt like crying. She was overcome with emotion – waking up on her birthday only to learn that Jughead had lied.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Jughead whispered, holding Betty by the shoulders and rubbing them comfortingly. “I’m sorry. I should’ve thought this through more – but I promise you this will make sense. Can we talk downstairs?”

Betty frowned. “Why downstairs?”

He held her hand wordlessly and they slowly made their way to the hall. Betty noticed that the entire upper two floors were completely empty – not a Serpent in sight. _What was going on?_ Usually, in the mornings, the hallways were bustling with Serpents getting ready to have breakfast or get to work. It was so strange and she couldn’t come up with one good reason for it.

When they got to the communal hall, it was pitch black. _Why weren’t the lights on?_

She heard a switch flip, and the room lit up. Everybody was there. There was food – so much food. All breakfast food, from pancakes to fruits to pastries. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BETTY!” everyone exclaimed. Her heart leaped.

 _Oh._ It all made sense.

She turned to Jughead. “Happy Birthday, Betty,” he repeated softly, and the way his blue eyes glinted at her was all too much. She burst into tears – happy tears – and hugged him so hard it sucked the air out of him.

“Oh my god!” she shouted, her cheeks wet with tears. “I can’t believe you did this – how did you know?!” she demanded, still not letting go.

“You mentioned it the car ride before we met up with Damian at the diner, remember?” he explained, not letting go, either. He hugged her tight, his arms wrapped soundly around her waist. “Veronica dug up the exact date. I’m sorry I made you sad and worried. I’m not a good liar,” he said, embarrassed.

Betty was fully aware that Jughead an excellent liar. When she first met him, he had his walls built up so high she couldn’t see through the expressions on his face. Now, though, when he was with her, he was an open book. She could read anything off his face – the curve of a smile, the minuscule raise of his eyebrow. It made her feel good to know that he was only bad at lying when she was around.

She didn’t remember mentioning her birthday was coming soon in the car ride to Vegas, and she couldn’t believe he remembered. She must’ve talked so much that day.

Betty pulled away and wiped her face. “I always love a good build-up before a big surprise,” she told him, laughing. She turned to look at everyone – she was so overwhelmingly happy. “Thank you, guys. This is so sweet.”

“I actually _was_ looking for clients on the first three days. But those were settled right away. I spent the last three days planning this… Veronica was supposed to keep you distracted while we prepared but it seems you caught on,” he said.

“I know you love breakfast food, so I requested every possible one I could think of,” he continued, turning to the table full of food. “Sorry if I missed any.” Betty looked at the food and was sure he didn’t miss anything at all.

He turned around and picked up a headband from a table – it had two black mouse-ears. He placed it over her head, confusing her. “Then we’re going to Disneyland. And after that, there’s a party at the _Wyrm_ tonight. Since, after all, it is your 21st birthday”

Betty’s jaw dropped. The happiest place in the world?! It had her written all over it – the giant buffet of breakfast food, the theme park, and _the party._ She had always wanted a big party. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her reaction. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better, Jug,” she told him sincerely, hugging him one more time, earning _awwwws_ and hoots from the gang. She couldn’t have imagined a better birthday.

The inner circle all went to Disneyland Park after the best breakfast of her life – the six of them going on the best rides and visiting the bright attractions. It was a beautiful day, the sun bright but the weather cool and windy. Jughead had managed to talk to a client so they could each have a pass that allowed them to skip lines, which earned them looks from other park-goers. _Who were these six adults who were able to skip lines at Disneyland?_

Betty made friends with so many mascots and princesses and insisted on going on Space Mountain _thrice._ It was thrilling. She loved every moment of it.

She held Jughead’s hand the entire time. He said she looked like Minnie Mouse since she wore a red polka-dot sundress and the mouse-ears headband he’d given her in the morning. They stayed until it was dark and watched the fireworks erupt into the air above the castle. It was romantic in the magical way Disney movies were, except Betty saw no ending in this one. Real-life was better.

When they got back to headquarters, the _Wyrm_ had been set up differently to look more like a club than the chill, sleek bar that it usually was. The perfect 21st birthday party setting. It was closed to the public that night, the lights overhead not a dim blue but instead a bright pink – all for Betty. The Serpents were already enjoying their drinks.

“I am _so_ ready for a night of heavy drinking,” Betty said excitedly to Jughead, running immediately to the bar. She was exhausted from walking all day at Disneyland but was still in a headspace to stay up and have fun.

“Hello, I’ll have… a margarita to kick off the night,” she told the bartender, who, upon turning around, was none other than Reggie Mantle, the Ghoulie she had famously injured. _“Oh._ It’s you. _”_

He surprisingly didn’t glare. “Hello, happy birthday, Betty. We haven’t talked, but I’m the guy you hit on the head at the warehouse if you don’t remember,” he introduced himself, giving her a nervous smile because unassuming Betty did not look like the type to whack people over the head, but she was.

“I’m so sorry,” she said quickly. “Is your head okay?”

He nodded. “It’s all good, and I’m actually grateful.”

She threw her head back, surprised. “Grateful? I gave you a concussion.”

“I know, but I _hated_ being in the Ghoulies. I prefer being held prisoner here for the food alone,” he explained.

Betty laughed. “The food! Tell me about it. Then, your welcome, I guess?”

He smiled at her. “Your boyfriend’s really scary during interrogations, though. And yet here he is throwing you a pink little party,” he complimented, picking up a glass for her margarita. “He really likes you. Three days ago, at midnight when you were asleep he went all Bridezilla and called every Serpent downstairs to tell everyone the plan for this day.”

The image of Jughead talking so seriously about a _birthday_ party was certainly entertaining to think about. Betty turned to find Jughead, whom she spotted at the other end of the establishment, not talking to anybody. He had been looking at her, a microscopic smile on his face.

Betty realized something in that instant.

“Excuse me,” she said to Reggie, “No need for that margarita.”

Betty walked all the way across the room to Jughead. “Hey, let’s go upstairs,” she said to him, face close to his so he could hear her over the booming music.

He furrowed his eyebrows, puzzled, but nodded anyway. She took him by the hand and led him to their floor, the corridors empty as they had been in the morning. This time, though, it was close to midnight. Despite how tired she was, Betty felt more awake than ever.

“Let’s not go back down,” she told him, turning to face him as they stopped in front of his room.

“I thought you wanted ‘a night of heavy drinking’,” he said, quoting her directly.

She shook her head. “I thought I did. But no, I don’t.”

“You don’t like the party?” he asked, face falling.

“No! No, I _love_ it. I loved this whole day so much, Jug. Thank you for planning it. I’ve always wanted a big party,” she insisted, placing both her hands on either side of his face. It was true. She _did_ love the party. But…

“But…?” he said, reading her mind.

“But…” she began, blinking slowly, “At the end of the day, this is where I want to be.”

“This empty hallway?”

She laughed again. “No. _With you,”_ she told him, her voice as soft as the wind. They were standing so close and his eyes were so blue. “And if I get really drunk tonight… my memory will get fuzzy. But I want to remember this night. I want it to be clear as day.”

Betty slowly went on her tip-toes and kissed him softly, her eyes fluttering closed. He held her face closer, deepening the kiss.

“Wait,” he whispered, pulling back. “I got you something.” He pulled out an object from his back pocket – a small circular box with a ribbon tied over it. He handed it to her. “Open it,” he told her, sounding a little apprehensive.

He still got her a gift despite planning this whole day? How many gifts was she going to get? Her face lit up as she opened the box and found a golden necklace, the pendant a tiny globe she could spin around. Her heart glowed. It was beautiful.

“Since you said you want to see the world,” he explained softly. She mentioned that once. _Did he remember everything she said?_

It was true. She wanted to see the world. She hoped he would be right by her side when she did.

“I love it, Jug,” she said, so remarkably happy she could barely find the words. “Thank you. I can’t wait to wear it.”

The smile he gave her was so beautiful she wanted to photograph it and stare at it forever. Betty closed the box and looked at him once more. “Now where were we?” he asked playfully, holding her waist and lowering his head to kiss her again.

Betty began walking backward as they kissed so her body was pressed against his door. His hands had trailed from her face down to the curve of her hip. All she could hear was her heartbeat and their breathing, and all she could feel was his mouth on hers and the goosebumps that tingled her skin. Betty tried to find the doorknob with her hand, and she opened the door so they could go inside.

Their lips didn’t leave each other’s for more than a second – even when she closed the door and tried to fumble with the lock, even when he removed the headband on her head and dropped it to the ground, even when she began to unbutton his shirt, even when he unzipped the back of her dress, when it was becoming so hot and heavy they could barely breathe.

“I’m ready,” she whispered when he began to kiss her neck.

He stopped abruptly and lifted his head to look at her, his pupils dark. “You are?” he asked breathless, voice low, a hand gently cupping her jaw. “You’re sure?”

She nodded. She was so sure. She wanted him. _All of him._ “I am,” she told him firmly. “Are you?”

“I am,” he whispered, before kissing her again.

He placed his hands behind her legs before very suddenly lifting her off the ground, and she could feel his smile against her own. She giggled, the butterflies in her stomach erupting when he carried her onto the bed, his body covering hers.

At the end of the day, _this_ was where she wanted to be.

And what she wanted had come true – Betty Cooper would never forget that night.

Meanwhile, at that very moment, Hiram Lodge was in his private plane, seething through his teeth. This wasn’t the first time he’d been outsmarted by the Serpents in his pursuit to get his daughter back. It was, above all humiliating that a gang of criminals was somehow beating him at everything. He needed a new strategy.

And upon closer inspection, he learned that the Serpents’ very own leader was harboring a secret.

That secret was a girl named Betty Cooper.

No, she wasn’t just an asset to Jughead Jones’s gang. She was so much more than that.

She was the girl he had fallen in love with.

Hiram was on his way back to LA, and he didn’t plan to leave in the near future.

He was far from finished.


	13. "Someone has to stay and it's going to be me."

They were only a few feet away from her now. One second away from the main street, away from the crowd of busy LA citizens, and they’d catch her and take her before she could so much as blink.

It was highly reminiscent of what happened those weeks ago, wasn’t it?

What could she do? What could she do?

She examined her surroundings – her options – and suddenly: her phone began to ring in her pocket, giving her the wild sudden rush of a good feeling in her gut, because she already knew who was calling.

Four Hours Earlier

“I know Greg was suspicious of me at first, but I eventually regained his trust,” Damian explained. “Then last week, he started telling me things again.”

“What things?” Jughead asked, just as Betty said, “Are you okay?”

It was midafternoon, and the three of them had met up at a café by the name of _Meg’s Mug._ It had been almost a week since Betty’s birthday, so things had calmed within the Serpents as they conducted business with new clients.

Damian had accomplished his part of the deal, which was staying for two weeks with the Ghoulies to gather insider information. Now, it was time for the Serpents to hold up their end.

He turned to Betty, puzzled. _“Am I okay?”_

She shrugged. “I mean, with your history with him… It must’ve been hard to have him open up to you again, right?”

Jughead smiled. Leave it to Betty to catch someone off-guard with an unwarranted, personal question.

The former Ghoulie shook his head. “Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as I expected,” he replied. “Anyway, as I was saying – Greg started telling me things again. Three days ago, he called me in his room after he got off the phone with Hiram Lodge. It was a very long call, lasted about an hour. Greg was very tense talking about it – Hiram gave him a hard time.”

“Why? The Ghoulies weren’t even involved in Hiram’s latest attempt to frame the Serpents,” Jughead interjected.

“I was confused, too. But apparently Hiram found out that I had left the Ghoulies and Greg kept it a secret,” he explained.

“Who told him that?”

“Samantha,” Damian replied with a scoff. “She was _very_ wary of me when I got back. She didn’t think you guys were involved, but she still thought my loyalty was clouded. So Hiram was angry, yes, but after scolding Greg they talked about what their next plan of action was going to be. The Ghoulies are going to play a bigger role because Hiram cut Nick St. Clair out of everything.”

 _“Everything?”_ Betty asked.

“Everything,” he repeated. Well, it was about time. Nick St. Clair’s incompetence was one of the major players in all of Hiram’s failed efforts thus far.

“So what’s the plan?” Jughead asked.

“This is the surprising part – the plan is to dismantle the Serpents by taking all your business,” he said simply.

“That’s it?” Betty asked.

“That’s it.”

Betty and Jughead both shot their heads to each other, skeptical looks across their faces. “That’s… lame,” Betty remarked.

“That doesn’t sound like Hiram Lodge at all,” he supplemented. “ _Taking all our business?_ How pacifist.”

Damian nodded. “I know, it’s odd. But that’s what Greg told me. He said Hiram is planning on laying low now,” he continued. He slid a flash drive across the table. “This contains everything I could get relating to Lodge Industries from the Ghoulies’ system,” he informed them. “All operations, transactions, correspondence… I’m not that great with computers – but I tried to follow the steps Betty gave to extract the data.”

Betty smiled, swiping the device and handing it to Jughead, which he placed in his pocket. “The steps are foolproof. I’m sure this is everything,” she replied.

Jughead still couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He’d expected that Hiram would have a big masterplan right after taking Archie – and now his plan was to… take over Serpent business? It was unlike the ruthless, violent Hiram everyone had come to know.

“Remember when you were almost abducted all those weeks ago?” Damian asked, turning to Betty. “It was because they wanted you to create a system that would acquire all of the Serpents’ contacts and clients. They’re sticking to that plan once again.”

“Well, good luck to the hacker they hire next. They won’t get anything out of the unbreakable security Veronica and I made,” Betty said with a confident beam. “Are they still looking for someone to construct this system of theirs?”

He nodded. “Yes, they are. But I won’t be involved in that – since my work here is done,” he said, smirking. “Now hand me that bag of cash, Jones.”

Now, it almost seemed like a waste to use so many Serpent resources to send Damian in as an undercover agent. Still, the Serpents were nothing if not reliable. Jughead nodded, pulling out the duffel bag of money from the floor and handing it to him. “Thank you for cooperating with us. The Serpents appreciate doing business with you.”

Betty grinned, clapping her hands together and leaning forward excitedly. “So where are you headed, Damian? Back to New York? Somewhere totally new?”

“Anywhere but here,” he replied, taking the bag and placing it over his shoulder.

She nodded, fingers unconsciously touching the globe pendant of the necklace Jughead had given her. Jughead noticed she touched it a lot, especially when she talked about her future. “I guess this is good-bye. Until we meet again.”

Little did anyone know, they would meet again much sooner than anyone thought.

Jughead was quiet the drive back. There was an unsatisfying finality to watching Damian leave with the bag of cash. Despite the conflict Hiram brought about, Jughead wasn’t ready for everything to be over. And by everything, he meant him and Betty. He’d expected more, if he were being honest – some kind of grand confrontation with Hiram himself. Instead, he had Damian sliding over a flash drive and telling them Hiram’s placatory plan.

He supposed he should be grateful that the Hiram Lodge problem cooled down so abruptly – but still. There was something off about it that he couldn’t put his finger on.

He glanced to his right, Betty watching the LA traffic pass her by. Jughead had woken up the day after her birthday just as the sun was coming up, and turned to find her still asleep beside him, a peaceful smile drawn upon her lips.

The night of her birthday had meant so much to him – more than she would ever know.

 _“At the end of the day,”_ she’d said, “ _this is where I want to be… With you.”_

But a weighty reminder hung in the air: she wasn’t going to be with the Serpents forever. This was temporary.

And with that reminder was the simultaneous realization that he was in love with her.

It was as simple as that – a steady, sure sense in his heart: that he loved her, and it was far from temporary.

An immeasurable emotion tied with a harsh reality check, but he knew he needed it. Being with Betty was a high, and being so high up meant coming down at some point. He needed to understand that – so it would hurt less for both of them when it had to end.

But so long as she was here, so long as it hadn’t ended yet, he’d make the most of every second he got.

A wild burst of inspiration had hit him – he immediately picked up his phone from his bedside and began to type out the words spilling out. It was a rush of creative outburst, powered by such strong, dizzying sentiments. He hadn’t written in years until that instant. And no, they weren’t the words of a lost novel or the musings of a teenage boy. They were the language of a man in love.

He’d never been the romantic type until he’d met her. He wanted to freeze that moment – him beside her on the bed, the early sunlight peeking through the blinds and illuminating her face – and relive it hundreds of time, so when she was gone it would be like she never left. He decided to preserve that moment in the words he wrote, every detail taken into account.

Because unfortunately, when moments pass, they’re gone forever.

“Why so quiet?” Betty asked, interrupting his recollection. He smiled when he heard her voice – muscle memory.

“Just thinking about some things,” he said truthfully. _Mostly you._ “I thought there would be more to the meeting.”

“That makes two of us. I think this is all very anticlimactic,” she agreed, turning down the radio to continue. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting like, a grand gunfight or whatever. But still.”

He nodded in agreement. He’d normally be suspicious, but he didn’t see why Hiram would lie to Greg, or why Greg would lie to Damian. “Are you still hungry?” he asked, “That café was sucked – we can get takeout and eat in your room?”

Betty smiled, placing a hand on his leg and quickly planting a kiss to his cheek. “Absolutely. You know me too well.”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Betty said when they were lying on his bed watching The Office on her computer, an array of burgers and fries around them. It was late afternoon, and they’d binged the first four seasons within the week. He enjoyed the show a lot, especially Betty’s sweet laughter that accompanied their viewing.

She paused the episode and turned to him. “The other day I started thinking – do Serpents go to school? Like, take up classes? Go to university?” she asked, a reserved kind of excitement on her face.

Jughead shook his head. “No, no one does that,” he answered. “Why?” It was an odd question – Serpents were Serpents precisely because any other future was bleak.

She shrugged, head resting on her palm. “Pam going to art school got me considering maybe going to college,” she said. “But I’m wondering if it’s plausible, being a full-time Serpent and a student at the same time.”

“You’re thinking about going to college?” he restated, stunned. But it wasn’t that part that surprised him – it was the part where she said she’d be a _full-time Serpent_. He didn’t think she was even considering staying in LA once the Hiram situation was dealt with.

“Is that weird?” she asked, sitting up. “I’ll be older than everyone, and I don’t even know what I want to study yet, but I have time to figure it out.”

He sat up, too, sensing the conversation was getting serious. “But you’ll be a full-time Serpent, too?” He knew what he’d heard and repeating what she’d said did almost nothing, but she had caught him so off-guard he needed to process what she was telling him.

Betty nodded. “Mhm. Or maybe part-time? Is that a thing?” she asked, chuckling.

Jughead didn’t return her happy expression. Instead there was a grim look written on him. “You plan to stay in the Serpents for how long, exactly?”

Her face fell. “Um… I don’t plan on leaving as long as you’re still here,” she told him, surprising him even more. “What do you mean by that?”

He didn’t respond right away, so she went on. “Did you – did you think I was gonna stop being a Serpent?” she asked, voice smaller than it usually was.

 _Yes._ Yes, he did.

Jughead tried to find the right words to explain. “Betty, you said before that you wanted your life to take direction – and going to college is great. But you can’t go to college _and_ be a Serpent. It’s contradictory.”

She suddenly stood up and gave him a wary look. “What are you getting at?”

Jughead got off the bed and stood to meet her eye. “There’s a common denominator to every single Serpent,” he began to explain. “People come here when they have nowhere else to go, not as a side hustle when they move on to higher education.”

“So being a Serpent and going to school are mutually exclusive now?” she clarified, testy.

“Yes, pretty much,” he told her.

“And I have to choose one or the other?”

He nodded. “There’s a right choice.”

“So… _you’ll_ leave the Serpents?” she said.

His heart sank. He didn’t know that they hadn’t been on the same page about their future. When Betty talked about seeing the world and moving on to bigger things, she never mentioned him being a part of it. He hadn’t realized she believed it was a no-brainer.

“I’m not leaving the Serpents,” he told her firmly, unable to hide the shakiness in how he said it. But he tried to say it with conviction, so he’d be confident with the decision, too.

Realization – and hurt – flashed across her face. It made him grow cold.

It was her turn to stay silent. The mood had changed suddenly and drastically.

Briefly, he recalled when he came across her necklace at the mall. He’d seen the tiny globe and immediately knew it belonged to her.

He’d give her the world if he could. In a heartbeat. Right now, they had to settle for the gold chain resting on her collarbone.

He took a deep breath. “I thought… I thought you’d eventually leave, Betty,” he said slowly.

Her mouth fell open, surprised, before she replied. “And you were okay with that?” she asked, upset and accusatory.

“Betty, you said so yourself – LA was a dead-end for you.”

“Until I met you!” she exclaimed with certainty.

In front of him was the best person who has ever walked into his life – and the more he thought about it the more he was sure that she’d be better off without him. It didn’t matter that she inspired him and made him happy – she had a future outside of him, and he’d learn to be okay with that.

“I don’t think you could be happy here,” he stated simply.

Her face crumpled into even more confusion. “You make me happy. Is that not obvious to you? Because you do. Every moment I spend with you feels like a dream that I don’t want to wake up from.”

“For now. But what happens long-term? I can’t make you happy long-term,” he argued. “This is my life. Leading the Serpents is my birthright. I’m not gonna let you be a criminal, or associated with one-”

“ _Please,”_ she interrupted sharply, “I was associated with criminals before we even met. I can handle it.”

“I know you can. But you shouldn’t have to,” he countered. “You have a way out.”

“So do you,” she shot back.

“I don’t.”

“That’s not true.”

It really was. He remembered the last time he had a way out – it preceded the worst day of his life.

“I’m responsible for these people. They’re my family _,”_ he explained, not wanting to get into the details.

“You’re allowed to be selfish for once, you know,” she said, as if it were all so simple. “You’re allowed to choose yourself.”

The way she was looking at him… a quiet kind of desperation on her face… he couldn’t bear it. Was it pity? He didn’t want her pity. He didn’t need her to save him. He wanted her to realize that he was making the right decision, and see that this was the way things were meant to be.

“Every decision I make; I have to think about the domino effect it’ll have,” he argued, defensive. “Toni and Cheryl are going to leave. Who’s next? Veronica? Archie? Someone has to stay and it’s going to be me.”

“I don’t understand why you insist on suffering alone all the time,” she said, voice rising. “I suppose there are worse things than being selfless to a fault – but you care too much for someone who keeps too much to himself, and it makes you miserable!”

“I’ll be miserable forever if it lets me sleep at night,” he countered quickly. “I don’t know if I could live with myself if I abandoned the Serpents and God forbid someone in this building got hurt. Or if I let you stay and you _ever_ got hurt.”

He said the last in a whisper, because the idea of her getting hurt was too much to even consider, let alone say aloud.

“So that’s your plan? Until the day you die, you’ll be here in this building all alone – even when your friends leave? Even if I leave?” she questioned. “Think about it: when was the last time you let yourself be completely happy, no consequences?”

If someone asked him that question a month ago, he wouldn’t have an answer. Now, though, he had plenty. And all of them had Betty in it. The spontaneous trip to Vegas, meeting her at the stoplight, the night of her birthday, and all the little moments squeezed in between. But he knew, even then, that they were fleeting moments. He couldn’t go on that way for too long, or he’d trap her right with him and she’d be miserable, too.

“You deserve that – to be happy,” she said.

“Happiness isn’t that simple,” he replied coldly, “I can’t just drop my life here because I met you, and I can’t let you drop your own life because you met me. You have _no idea_ what it’s like to have people depend on you. None. I’m not the kind of person who can just… up and leave. You can afford to leave your hometown and not think about the consequences – I can’t. So stop acting like I haven’t thought this through, because I have, and the same solution comes up every single time.”

He knew his words would cut deep. He said them anyway. He had to convince her he was right because even he had a hard time convincing himself every time he laid eyes on her.

But to his surprise, she didn’t waver. She didn’t even seem fazed. She stepped closer. Her fingers took his hands and held them tight.

“Tell me, Jug,” she pleaded. “Tell me why you’re acting like the people in your life are temporary. I hope you learn that your friends aren’t just passing you by. _I’m_ not just passing you by. I want you and I want to be with you. I don’t think it gets more simple than that.”

_I want you and I want to be with you._

He shook his head. “You don’t want that. Believe me.”

“Try me,” Betty said, in that same, matter-of-fact tone. “I know there has to be something. You don’t just wake up one day and decide to live unhappily – so what was it, Jug? Tell me, and help me understand.”

Jughead knew that there was only a handful of defining moments in a person’s life. The day he became the leader of the Serpents was one of them. He knew, even then, that he was signing up for a life sentence. He wasn’t going to sentence her, too.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

He knew that wasn’t true. He knew that she’d understand more than anyone else would – but he didn’t want her any more invested than she already was. He needed her to be safe, and if that meant pushing her away, then so be it.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she told him, determined, eyes glued to him.

That was exactly what he was afraid of.

“We can’t,” he whispered, dropping her hands. Her face was so close to his, he could see his own reflection in her pupils. “Betty, I-”

 _I love you._ The words hung in his throat but they didn’t come out. Instead, he said something else. “I’m sorry, but you’ve misread everything. This was not meant to last.”

Keyword: _was._

Betty lifted her hand to tightly clutch the globe on the necklace he’d given her, twirling it around the tips of her fingers, as though if she held it long enough he’d change his mind. But he wasn’t going to. He’d made it up a while ago, even before she came into his life.

“You think you’re no good for anyone unless you’re unhappy. But that isn’t true,” Betty whispered, a tear falling down her cheek. “People get hurt no matter what you do – it’s unavoidable. And I get you’re scared you’ll make the wrong choice. Everyone is. But you can’t be scared forever,” she finished.

She gave him one final look before walking out of his room.

Betty knew Jughead was used to dealing with things alone, but the past few weeks felt as though they were building up to something long-term – the kind of trust and connection that wasn’t a short-lived fling. She didn’t think their first fight would feel so definitive.

She’d always assumed, without a doubt, that eventually, he’d come right with her once he figured out how he was going to leave the Serpents.

She hoped she hadn’t assumed wrong.

As she stormed out of the room, her feet carrying her as fast as she could down the hall, she remembered the night of her birthday, when he’d given her the necklace and kissed her like she was the only person in the entire world.

She knew that night that he was the one for her – knew it with all of her being. She knew that she wanted to see the world with him – to go far and beyond the scary, unpredictable machinery of fate with him.

But he’d already decided for her. He decided that _no,_ he wasn’t going to be there when that happened. He was going to stay right here in LA. He didn’t see them lasting, never did.

Betty sat down at the _Wyrm’s_ bar, which was still closed. It was only 4 pm so it wouldn’t open for another hour, which meant she could sulk alone that afternoon and wrap her head around everything Jughead had said to her.

_I can’t just drop my life here because I met you, and I can’t let you drop your own life because you met me._

His words stung because she was willing to drop everything for him, despite rational thought and their circumstances holding them back. Still, she meant what she’d said – she wasn’t going anywhere. And she’d be damned if that was the last they ever spoke of it. She knew Jughead was worth fighting for, despite his own reservations that seemed etched in stone.

“Everything alright?” a voice asked minutes later. Betty shot her head up and found Reggie Mantle standing behind the counter, wiping glasses.

She quickly wiped her face, nodding. “Yeah, yeah,” she said, sniffling. She hadn’t talked to him since the night of her birthday. “Thanks for the concern.”

He looked tense, and she couldn’t exactly place why. He put the glass and towel down, tapping his fingers on the countertop.

“Are _you_ okay?” she asked him.

“Huh?” he asked, his attention far away. “Oh. Yeah, I am,” he said, smiling lightly. His eyes were trained on the front door.

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem fine,” she observed.

He shook his head, snapping out of it. “Just tired. Do you want anything? I can fix you a drink.”

A drink sounded wonderful. She nodded. “Oh, yes. I’ll have a martini, please. Dry. Thank you,” she said.

“Gotcha.” He turned around and began preparing it.

“Why are you working so early?” she asked.

“Have nothing to do, that’s all,” he said lightly as he poured the drink into her glass. “Why are _you_ here?”

She took a deep breath. “Just need to think some things over.”

“Tell me about it. Ever since I got here, all I’ve been doing is reevaluating my life,” he remarked. “I’m worried I’ll fall back into old habits; you know?”

“Oh my god, exactly,” she agreed. She realized they were the only two in the building who weren’t accustomed to the Serpent lifestyle yet. “When I got here, I took it as a chance to start over. I got my hopes so high – a sign from the universe, maybe, that I could do better. But what if this is just a stopover before my life goes back to the way it was?”

She prayed Jughead wasn’t just a stopover.

He turned around and placed her drink on the counter, nodding. “I already think I’m going back to the way it was if I’m being honest.”

She finally figured out what the expression on his face was – guilt. But why was he guilty?

Betty raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Just then, she heard the door of the bar swing open, surprising her. They weren’t going to open for another hour. So why was the door unlocked? She looked over her shoulder and found two unfamiliar men – definitely not Serpents – step inside the bar. They were armed. Their eyes stayed planted on _her._

She remembered what Damian had said earlier that day: _They wanted you to create a system that would acquire all of the Serpents’ contacts and clients. They’re sticking to that plan once again._

Realization dawned on her and her heart stopped. She froze in place, eyes glancing over to Reggie, who didn’t seem shocked at all that there were two random men inside the bar. Reggie, it seemed, was in on it.

“I’m sorry,” he said under his breath. He looked genuinely sorry.

“Screw you, Reggie,” she muttered under her breath.

There was no time to panic. She had to think quickly.

What did she need?

No, she wasn't going to grab their weapons this time. Or hit them over the head.

She needed a diversion.

Betty glanced over to a bottle of wine and swiped it off the counter, throwing it hard in Reggie’s direction. It hit the bar’s shelf over his head and shattered the glass, loudly knocking down several bottles of alcohol. While the three men shot their eyes to the crash, Betty took it as her chance to run away.

The only way to go was outside through the backdoor of the bar. She sprinted out, the humid air in her face. She ran out into the street, into the groups of people. It wouldn’t be too long before they were on her tail.

She continued to dash, hearing their cursing voices follow behind her, their legs much faster and their bodies much stronger.

These men were armed. And their lack of stealth showed very clearly that they didn’t care about doing their dirty work in public.

Betty looked over her shoulder and cursed when they were only getting closer.

They were only a few feet away from her now. One second away from the main street, away from the crowd of busy LA citizens, and they’d catch her and take her before she could so much as blink.

It was highly reminiscent of what happened those weeks ago.

What could she do? What could she do?

She examined her surroundings – her options – and suddenly: her phone began to ring in her pocket, giving her the wild sudden rush of a good feeling in her gut, because she already knew who was calling.

As she ran, she picked up.

How she wished he was calling in different circumstances because she had a good feeling about that call. Right now, as her pulse sped and the adrenaline in her brain exploded into her limbs, she felt no anger towards him, only relief. He was calling to make things right.

“Betty, where are you? I-” he began, voice soft and nervous.

“Jughead, listen to me,” she interrupted, breathless. “There are two men who broke into the _Wyrm_ and they’re after me.”

They were so close. She could hear Jughead hold in his breath on the other end. “Oh my god. Where are you?”

She heard shuffling on his end, the sound of a door slamming shut. He was already on his feet – to inform everyone, no doubt.

She tried hard to remain calm, to give him the information he needed. “Outside. Reggie called them in. I know why they’re here. I figured it out – the system Damian was talking about? They want _me_ to build it. They’re going to catch me, Jug, but I’ll be okay. I know they won’t hurt me because they need me. And I know you’ll come and find me.”

 _“I’ll find you,”_ he said with every last bit of conviction. She knew, too, he was trying to remain calm for her. There was so much wrought emotion in his voice, terrified and apologetic and guilty. She knew there were so many things he wanted to say, but their phone call was on borrowed time.

 _“I love you, Betty,”_ he whispered into her ear.

But she didn’t need many words. Only those. Despite her running for her life, she found it in herself to smile. Her heart was warm. She wasn’t afraid.

“I-”

Before she could finish, rough hands grabbed her by the shoulders, another clamped over her mouth. Her feet pulled into a halt. Cloth placed over her head. She dropped her phone to the ground. She didn’t fight or try to break free – she knew it would be in vain.

Still, she wasn’t afraid at all.

_I love you too._

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! :)
> 
> Tumblr: @erinxwriter
> 
> -Erin


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